


Tongues

by Necrowmancer



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Gen, Some light DB/Jenassa and Serana, Unhealthy Relationships, occasional sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 68
Words: 216,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8277587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necrowmancer/pseuds/Necrowmancer
Summary: Casil is happy with her life; she makes money off of the war, collects the limbs of fallen soldiers for her necromancy projects, and has a wonderful redguard werewolf as a companion. But life is thrown on it's head when the Bosmer decides to stick her neck out for Whiterun after witnessing a dragon attack on Helgen- a action that will drag her into a quest to save the world. Casil must struggle to fulfill what is supposedly her destiny, with a twist no legend saw coming - the dragonborn is a mute.





	1. I. Hand of Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to SuperLiet for reading through this and encouraging my trash ass. First fic in ages and first thing to actually put up on Ao3 or anywhere else? So I apologize;;
> 
> -Chapters will be uploaded as they're read through / edited by myself and SuperLiet!  
> -Draconic/Dovazul notes and translations will be placed at the end  
> -Based on a heavily modded game (Deadlier/Diverse Dragons, Live Another Life, Perksus Maximus, etc.), so doesn't follow exactly with lore. Some liberties taken to lore anyways.  
> -Chapter names are just whatever Pandora had while writing so I could distinguish chapters better beyond just roman numerals  
> -There will be smut. Chapters will be marked as such.  
> -Unabashed use of in-game dialogue at parts as a heads up :"Y!!
> 
> Thank you for reading oh goodness!

The air was crisp, sharp, and despite the clear blue sky overhead the chill bit harder today than it had in the previous rainstorm. It was a break between the inevitable next rainstorm or worse, snowstorm. If traveling was to be done, a smart person would try to finish it today.

As such, a pair of individuals had set up base on an outcropping of rock in the vast fields of Whiterun Hold, perched waiting along the well traveled road.

A Bosmer and a Redguard, who sat a good six feet apart from each other with a heap of canvas bags between them.

The Redguard picked at his teeth with a sharpened shard of mammoth tusk, idly glancing down the road for any telltale sign of a traveler. The Bosmer pulled her face away from the dinged up spyglass she was using to look the other direction, glancing at the man next to her before rolling her eyes. No amount of teeth cleaning was going to fix the man’s gnarled, black and yellow teeth. She didn’t understand why he bothered to clean them with the toothpick. Maybe it was a tick.

The Redguard pulled the shard away, glancing back at the Bosmer.

“You sure it’s worth hanging out up here?” He grunted, digging around  in one of the bags for a iron dagger to check his reflection in. “War ain’t stoppin’ you know. I’m sure there’s a skirmish or some shit going on near by.”

The Bosmer ignored him and returned back to the spyglass, peering scanning across the wilderness before them. Nothing. The only signs of life were a distant giant and his mammoth, slowly mulling across the vast fields at a leisurely pace. The Bosmer puffed her cheeks up and snapped the spyglass shut with a swift smack.

The Redguard didn’t bother looking back at her, continuing to inspect his teeth in the dagger’s reflection. “‘Sides,” he sat up from his reclined position against a boulder, “winter’s rollin’ in. Nobody does shit in the winter and I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be sitting out here in the snow waiting for one sorry farmer to pass by.”

The Bosmer let out a sharp huff, before raising her hands. Her hands flew into a flurry of motions that the Redguard turned to watch. The large man laughed.

“Fine, fine. If you think we have enough to slack off for the winter,” he replied, tossing the iron dagger back into the bag.

Her hands flashed into a fury of motions again.

‘I’m not a bandit, Sterlas’

The Redguard gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, if ya wanna say that. Because sitting up here waiting for people to pass by _totally_ ain’t something I did when I was a bandit-”

The Bosmer picked up a pebble and tossed it at him. Sterlas swatted it down with ease, grinning from ear to ear with one of his big, ugly smiles. She hated it when he smiled like that. It showed his ugly teeth.

She pulled the spyglass back out again in mild irritation, peering through it with bright orange eyes. A big grin lit up her own face, and she slammed the spyglass shut again before pointing down the road.

Sterlas squinted, sniffing the air. “Casil, I hate ya sometimes,” he grunted, stretching.

Casil kept her grin, getting up before giving Sterlas a playful slug in the arm. Sterlas shook his head, but his smile hadn’t left his face either. The large man got up, cracking his neck. “Let’s get this going, eh?”

Casil kicked some of the canvas sacks back behind a rock in a vague attempt to hide them, flashing a few quick hand signs at him before haphazardly leaping off the pile of rocks they had camped out on. Sterlas was waiting for the day the dumb wood elf broke something miscalculating a jump. Today didn’t seem to be the day, and that was quite fine with the Redguard. He gave a stretch, before hunching over as a sickening tearing noise accompanied a burst of hair. In moments, the hulking redguard had been replaced with an even larger beast, who let out a howl before bounding down after his companion.

Bandits. A handful of them, the usual number Casil expected to be wandering the roads. If it had been many more, she would have let them pass. The Bosmer was confident in her skills, and confident with the backup of a werewolf, but she didn’t want to push her luck. She spent most of her time as a scavenger, a vulture preying on the already deceased after the danger had moved on to somewhere else. She hadn’t spent long being a wolf herself, and it she wasn’t entirely comfortable being one.

The bandits took quick notice of Casil. She was a small, unassuming woman in a simple outfit, and very clearly unarmed. An easy target, not heard of or known for traps. As far as the bandits were concerned, easy picking. Casil walked down to road towards them, feigning weariness by veering to the side of the path and keeping her head down and eyes focused on the well worn path in front of her. Her sharp ears could hear their murmuring, their change of path as they turned towards her.

“Where ya goin’, girly?”

Casil brought a hand shyly up to her arm, gripping it with a nervous look to each of the individuals before her. One in heavy armor, one hanging back with a bow. Two in leather, neither seemed to be mages. Easy enough. Casil made no reply, and instead took one step back.

Sterlas had circled around, and was bounding up behind the bandits. That was all Casil needed to drop her act. The bandits might have said something else, a threat or harassment no doubt, but Casil didn’t hear it or pretend that she cared. Her hands raised, embers crackling around them. The ranger in the back turned around just in time to have his face met with the mangled teeth of a werewolf, knocking him back with a pained yowl as Sterlas violently tossed his body to the side like a ragdoll. Surprise was about the only thing Casil usually had going for her. She quickly backed up to make some distance between herself and the bandits, taking advantage of their delay in reaction thanks to Sterlas’s sudden appearance. Another bandit was swatted aside with a swipe of a powerful claw, accompanied with the sickening crack of ribs as they were launched a good ten feet before meeting their end on a boulder. Casil inhaled deeply, summoning up a raging fire between her hands, before she flung it at the heavily armored bandit with gusto. It wouldn’t kill him, no, but it caused him to stumble back which was enough for Casil to power up another shot.

The battle did not last long. In minutes, the road fell silent again save for the whistle of the wind, the crackle of some remaining fire, and the gurgle of one not quite dead bandit. Casil glanced up and down the road, checking for anyone who might be traveling their way, before she turned to survey their victims. The ranger and one of the lightly armored bandits had been killed swiftly with Sterlas’s surprise attack; Casil didn’t even bother to check to confirm it. The armored one went down in fire, which left the only one not quite dead yet. The man lay half propped up by the crumbling stone walls that surrounded part of the road, spitting up a mouthful of blood as his body twitched. Sterlas was using a paw to wipe blood off of his nose, before he sat down and moved to lick at a one of the gashes the bandit left him with. Casil crouched down and put the man out of his misery.

‘Help me with these, will you? The road’s a bad place to work,’ she signed to the werewolf, shuffling over to the thinnest of the bandits. She grabbed him by the wrist before trying to drag the body off to the side, glancing over her shoulder to try to survey out a spot that would give her some cover from the path.

Sterlas grunted, but made no reply. He never did as a werewolf. The dog shook himself off, before trotting over to pick up the remaining bodies.

Casil made four piles; things that could be melted, things that couldn’t, things she wanted, and things that weren’t even worth taking from here. The biggest pile consisted of daggers and the iron armor, as well as a few swords, a single pot, and a heap of arrowheads. A few gemstones and stolen goods were spread out between the unmeltable and the pile of things she wanted to keep, and the last contained the leather armor and a few odds and ends Casil found no use for.

Casil tossed Sterlas a hunk of meat one of the bandits had in their bag before she packed up the canvas sacks they had stored up at the rocks. It was better to be ready to go in a heartbeat then to be caught unprepared. Sterlas snapped up the meat, wagging his tail hard enough to kick up a cloud of dust and debris from where he lay. Casil coughed and waved a hand, making a few gestures to tell him to knock it off. He liked to be difficult.

The last canvas sack was brought down and carefully opened. A unpleasant smell wafted out of the well sealed bag, to which Casil payed no mind. She reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a specially shaped knife, before crouching down by the laid out bodies of her bandit victims.

Necromancy was a hobby more than it was her main thing, as much as she would love it to be her job. But as it were, her job and hobby tended to cross paths and go hand in hand together.

Casil worked with deft hands and honed skill. Her knife made quick, clean cuts in the removal of a bulk of the flesh from the bone. Muscle was stripped away with the skin, and what bones were too damaged for use were added to the pile of flesh and organs. The bone was far from clean, but Casil worked to just take off the bulk of the weight. She didn’t need the flesh, and keeping it all would mean they could carry less and it would take longer to decay.

Sterlas sniffed at one of the broken arms Casil had tossed to the side.

‘I told you to be careful,’ Casil signed in exasperation, ‘I don’t think any of their ribcages survived.’

Sterlas rolled his eyes and stole the arm, trotting back to a spot some feet away to chew on it. Things were quiet between them. The werewolf watched as his companion worked away at the bodies, tossing some of the unwanted flesh to the scavengers that were starting to wander near. She loved to feed them. Wolves and foxes made things look much less suspicious. People died on the road all the time, murder or not. She wanted people to think it was nothing more than the usual if bodies were found, and not the work of a necromancer. Sterlas understood it. It’d make doing her work a lot harder if people were on the lookout for a body stealing mage. He crunched at the bone idly, glancing up and down the road to make sure nobody was passing by.

It had only been in recent months had things resulted to waiting by the road. Casil normally stuck to the battlefields. From what Sterlas had come to understand of the mute, she had made her living for some time off of the war. People died. Things were in turmoil. Casil thrived on that. She made her way from battlefield to battlefield gathering things off of the fallen, from personal belongings to arms of both the literal and weapon sense. From there she sold what was in good enough shape to be resold and melted down the rest, to which she also sold in ingot form. There were plenty of damaged houses to steal from, and people who no longer needed their belongings that she could take from. There was no end to the need for weaponry and armor in this civil war, and Casil was keen to step into the market. Morals were not a thing Casil had, as far as the werewolf knew.

Casil piled the severed limbs into the bag, crouching to seal it up again so the worst of the smell wouldn’t leak out. With the bag closed and ready for travel, the Bosmer grabbed what else remained and scattered it out to the waiting scavengers. A pack of wolves took to dismembering and fighting over whatever Casil hadn’t taken, and Sterlas could tell the Bosmer was pleased with herself. He spat out half of the humerus he had been chewing on, getting back up with a stretch  before trotting back over to the bag pile. Sterlas’s job was easy; kill and carry. For that, he had a place to sleep, food to eat, and whatever he wanted from the piles that Casil didn’t call dibs on first… which was usually anything he wanted, since their interests rarely overlapped. Casil was the booksmarts kind who’s only physical strength came from hauling ingots and swords for melting; Sterlas was happy with a good meal and a keg of mead, and maybe a few ladies. It beat the bandit work he had been doing before. Better pay, better housing, far less work. He was more than happy to help haul around this garbage if it meant a nice warm fire to snooze in front of after.

 

Casil holed herself up at a lakeside cabin in Falkreath Hold, a ways off any well tread path where unwanted wandering eyes or noses might catch a waft of what was brewing in what used to be the apiary. Casil had explained to Sterlas early on in their companionship that she had bought the land and built the house up as she saw fit, thanks to the money she was making during some of the more violent, heated parts of the war. It was a three story house with a greenhouse on one side and a library tower on the other. Casil did her work in the basement, where she had carefully constructed an entire forge for the express purpose of melting down stolen goods and fixing up others. The main ground floor housed the kitchen and dining hall, while the upper floor held the two bedrooms and a myriad of other shelves and cases.

Sterlas pulled the cover of the apiary off, wrinkling his sensitive nose at the stench that wafted out of it. Casil had been piling the remains in there for upwards of a few years he had learned, and it was his absolute least favorite thing about her and her household. Flies swarmed around the structure more than the bees ever had, and their young caused the general conglomerate of ooze inside to writhe. Sterlas could deal with blood and gore, but only when it was fresh. This kind of stuff was too much for him. He quickly unsealed the bag and dumped in the new parts, causing some of the almost liquid flesh to splash back up. Sterlas held back a gag and quickly slammed the top closed again, moving away from it as quickly as he could.

“Why you gotta keep it in _that?_ ” Sterlas grumbled, shaking himself off as he returned to his human form upon entering the house.

Casil had piled the bags against various doors and places in the house where they would be moved, and had been sorting through the bag of things she had wanted to keep when he spoke up. It caused her to jump and whirl, before she let out a sigh and relaxed again. She was not used to him being a human. He had spent the first year of their relationship explicitly as a werewolf, and Casil had assumed by that point that he would never turn back into a human.

Sterlas raised a hand to show he meant no harm, though he knew she knew that. He understood it had been a big change for her. Casil wasn’t exactly the talking type, and he meant no joke by that. She was used to silence.

The elf turned and sat down the book, clapping her hands together. A pair of skeletons scurried out of the kitchen at her command, picking up two of the bags before scurrying out of the room again. Casil turned to look at Sterlas again.

‘Tried putting them in holes. Too much work.’

She picked up one of the books again, thumbing through it.

“You sayin’ your goons over there can’t dig a hole?” He scoffed, cocking his head towards the pair of skeletons in the other room.

Casil glanced back at them, before giving a half-hearted shrug. ‘Could.’

Casil couldn’t lie, she missed it when Sterlas didn’t have to pester her about every choice she made. The company could be nice and he had become a valuable translator, but she was not a social individual.

Sterlas walked over and heaved one of the sacks of meltable metals over his shoulder. “We should almost be to a full cartload, huh?”

Casil set the book down and grabbed a smaller bag with a nod, following the large man. He kicked the cellar door open after carefully lifting the hatch with his foot, before descending down the creaky stairs that had endured too much abuse under the weight of heavy objects.

The basement was a clutter of weaponry and metals that Sterlas could not give you rhyme nor reason to. Casil had a system, and the Redguard was sure that it only made sense to her. He let the bag hit the ground with the resounding clatter of metals, dropping it off by the smelter. The Bosmer wandered after him and did the same with her’s, before heading over to one of the few actual wardrobes that stood in the room.

Sterlas picked up a shovel and moved to add more coal to the furnace. “You’d think one of these days they’d find a solution or an end to this war,” he said, digging the shovel into the massive pile of coal before heaving it into its place.

Casil took off the shawl she normally wore, grabbing a thicker and more work-appropriate shirt and apron out of the wardrobe before throwing them on. ‘Makes no difference to me.’

“I know you don’t care who wins, but what are ya gonna do if it ends? Keep up with jumpin’ bandits?”

Casil gave her hallmark shrug. ‘Lots of barrows to steal from. People pay good money for gems. Maybe spend more time looking in Dwemer ruins.’

Sterlas let out a hum of thought, digging the shovel into the pile of coal once he was done. He stepped back from the searing hot container and kicked back in a wood chair he had dragged down from the kitchen. Casil threw some gloves on and immediately went to work, pulling things out of the bags and stripping them down to their metal parts, before tossing them into the smelter. It was dreadfully boring work, Sterlas found. He wasn’t sure how Casil could do it for hours on end.

‘I don’t worry about things as much as you do,’ Casil signed to him at one point, a gesture Sterlas had almost missed since he was about to get up from his chair.

The werewolf chuckled. “Hey now, I don’t worry at all. I’m just wondering,” he said, moving to grab himself a bottle of mead out of a barrel in the neighboring room of the cellar. “We should go out and hit up one of those barrows then, see if they’re gonna make you as much money as ya say they will.”

Casil nodded her head in agreement, wrestling the head of an ax off of its pole before it was added into the melting heap of iron. Sterlas took a swig of mead, glancing at the molten iron one more time before he made his way back up the stairs.


	2. II. Youth and Whisky

Casil was a minimalist packer, so much that it was frightening to Sterlas. She didn’t even carry as much as a dagger for protection outside of her magic, and her bag was almost exclusively filled with a handful of potions, a ring of lockpicks, and a few basic items. The rest of her bags were left empty, open for anything her sticky fingers could latch onto. If it wasn’t nailed down, it was her’s. Casil had a horse, who would make traveling so much easier, but the woman chose most of the time not to use him. She prefered to travel on foot, and had a dedicated pack to travel gear that was also the absolute bare minimum for traveling. Sterlas, on the other hand, made sure he was quite prepared for almost any situation. He couldn’t recall if his overpacking was always something he had done, or if it had sprung from traveling with Casil. The only time he felt Casil ever packed enough was if she was bringing a thrall along, which she did with such inconsistency that Sterlas wished he had just stayed as a blissfully unaware werewolf.

He regretted his suggestion when the two of them set up camp outside of a dingy heap of carved stone out amidst the hills of Whiterun Hold. Casil seemed right at home.

The barrow looked like most others in Skyrim; ornately carved stone with dragon-like effigies crumbling around a heap of dirt and stone with a door that lead deeper into what most assumed would be a dragur-filled catacomb of long dead nords and traps. The pair arrived as the sun was starting to set down overhead, which was enough time to set up a modest base camp.

Casil slid her way into the pit and picked the door open, a task Sterlas found to be too easy for something like a burial mound. He didn’t understand the point of them. A short investigation of the initial room confirmed that the place hadn’t really been touched, and that was enough for Casil to want to raid it.

The two rested up from the day of traveling, and before the sun had broken the horizon again they entered the barrow.

It was stale, and Sterlas did not like that. Instinctively he fluffed into his werewolf form, his torch locked tight in his jaws as he pawed after Casil. Wind hissed as it sucked its way through the door, but after a little ways in the air fell into the usual stillness one entry caverns had. Much to both of their surprises, the first few rooms of the barrow were empty of any sort of life, or unlife. A few broken tables and shelves littered the rooms, which had little to offer. Casil scoured each room for anything of interest; every tool left was examined, every old book thumbed through, every jar and chest opened. Most of the equipment was unsuited to even melt down, corroded beyond recovery, and most books had been damaged beyond legibility. Casil did however manage to salvage a handful of gold coins and a amethyst from the bottom of a jar, with help from Sterlas.

The next room, however, finally started to show signs of activity. It was much cleaner, more organized, than the previous one.

‘Draugr’. Casil motioned. Sterlas nodded his huge head, ears perked forward in hopes of catching any hint of the barrow’s residents. A distant shuffling echoed from down a neighboring hall, along with a few words in what the wolf assumed was draconic. He made a nodding motion in the direction of the noise, and Casil made a mental note before making a run of the room.

Casil liked the Nordic ruins. She recalled the first one she had seen when she was young, when she had first snuck over the border into Skyrim. The great carvings of the dragons were a sight to see, and every time she came to a new one there was more to take in. The ruins had stories to tell, spoke of a long gone time and way of life. A living story book, a piece of lingering history. It was not her heritage, but she loved it all the same.

It didn’t stop her from stealing from them though. The dead had no need for it, even if they were up and walking.

 

Casil shoved something that vaguely resembled a in-tact book into one of her bags, before joining Sterlas at the entry down the next hall. The werewolf had kept an eye on it, watching down the hall for draugr. Fire sparked up in one of Casil’s hands, and she carefully started to move down the hall. Her eyes were more focused on the ground then ahead; the last time she had been in one of the ruins, she had gotten careless. The result was becoming a porcupine of poison darts, which wasn’t the worst result but Casil would rather not find herself being lopped in half next time. Sterlas followed behind with equal caution, alert and ready for anything that might happen. Sure enough, the next chamber was inhabited by the usual undead. Their pale, gaunt bodies shuffled around the room, set to tasks who’s purposes had been lost to the ages. None of them had noticed the two intruders yet, and their usual unawareness was the only factor Sterlas found redeeming about them. He could not find the same interest Casil had in them.

Fire made short work of draugr, or most undead for that matter, which had been the reason Casil had focused much of her time into fire destruction over any other type of destruction spell. Casil examined the torched corpses, but far less thoroughly than the room itself. Little the draugr carried was useful to her, and as much as she longed to know what kept them moving after all that time, none of the draugr she had seen gave her any useful hints or ideas. Casil was confident in her necromancy skills, but she hardly fancied herself to be any great pioneer in the field. She had found out her own tricks, but nothing she felt was noteworthy. Discovery of that degree was not her forte, and she doubted she would be the person to discover how the draugr came about.

Casil paused in her thorough raid of the room when her gaze fell on one of the many reliefs that lined the walls of the ruins. It was as wider than she was tall, depicting the proud form of a dragon above groveling priests. The mural was in good shape, with not too much wear or chipping. It was another upside to the more untouched barrows.

The Bosmer turned back to look at Sterlas, and chucked a tiny piece of stone at him to get his attention when she noticed he had his back turned. The werewolf turned to look at her, tilting his head.

‘Which would you rather have; dragon overlords or the civil war?’

Sterlas gave her the most confused face he could give in the form of a dog, before giving a shrug. He let out a gruff grunt, a sign that he either had no answer or didn’t like either choice. He looked at her questioningly, which Casil took as chance to give her own answer.

‘At least dragons would have been more interesting to look at. I would love to have seen one,’ she said, looking over the mural again before snagging one more object off the table and making her way back to the dog.

Sterlas chuffed. No, _he_ would pass on ever seeing a dragon and he was sure Casil would feel the same if one did appear. The woman could wade through a sea of blood and draugr unflinching but she was still a fragile glass doll, and Sterlas had seen how fast she could book it from bears. He doubted she’d be that fearless if she actually saw one.

 

The two made their way further down into the barrow, taking their time in each room to make sure they got the most out of the ruins before they left. And even nearing the last room, it wasn’t as much as Casil was hoping it would be. The two sat in the room that lead to what Casil figured was the last room, sorting through what they had gotten. The metal doors had been opened very carefully until Casil could get a good look at the room. A big wall, no other door or tunnel, and the coffin of what Casil assumed was the resident reigning draugr.

A handful of amulets and rings, a few jewels, a okay pile of coin, and a few pieces of armor and weaponry still fit to be melted down. Casil leaned over the table, palms pressed into the cold stone edges. Handful of jewelry. Some coins. Maybe 5 ingots worth of iron. Sterlas looked at it, before looking back at Casil.

She let out a loud sigh and flopped forward on the table.

Nope, it was not as good as she had been hoping.

‘Maybe I do have to think about this more,’ she signed, rubbing her face. Sterlas rolled his eyes, before turning to look back at the door to the last room. Casil shoved the goods back into the bag, before following Sterlas into the last room.

The room was fairly large and open, built of hewn stone propped up with ancient timbers. Casil and Sterlas walked out onto wood plank platform that overlooked the rest of the room, with stairs on either side that lead to the main floor. A black stone coffin sat in the center of the room, backed by a great wall littered with draconic writing.

Casil picked up a rock and tossed it at the coffin. It missed by a long shot, breaking into pieces as it clattered to the floor and slowly rolled to a stop. Silence returned to the chamber. Sterlas turned his head to look at her, before picking up his own rock and lobbing it at the coffin as well. His rock smashed into the coffin with a resounding _bang!_

The coffin rumbled, before the lit snapped off and was shoved over onto the floor. Casil was ready for the second there was a opening, and released an unrelenting storm of fire onto the draugr below.

 

The draugr didn’t have much on them either, but Casil was pleased to find a chest hidden around the far side of the word wall. Once the room had been cleared, she turned her attention to the wall itself.

Why did they make such walls? The elf gazed up at the slab of stone with bright eyes, hands on her hips as she surveyed it. She had begun to understand and recognize the words, a slow and tenuous process that had only been helped after heisting any unlocked cabinet in the Arcanaeum when a pair of students had gotten into a fight that had pulled the attention of a vast majority of the College’s residents.

Casil reached a hand up to the stone wall, running her fingers over the carved words. The stone was smooth, but the carving edges felt rough under her fingers. _Kaal._ She recognized the word as the word for champion. She threw a look back at Sterlas. The werewolf’s attention had been snagged by a mouse, who he was boredly chasing after near the back of the room.

She dug around in her bag for her notebook, removing it and a piece of charcoal before scribbling down the writing on the wall. Another one of the many pet projects Casil had started and would probably never finish. Once it was down, she returned the tools to her bag and picked up the spoils. Lifted her hand to her mouth and whistled sharply, catching Sterlas’s attention as she headed back up the stairs. He grabbed his own bag of the heavier items and followed after her.

He didn’t transform back until night had rolled around again and the silence at the campfire had grown unbearable for him.

Casil hadn’t pulled her nose out her notebook since they had gotten out, and much to Sterlas’s surprise she hadn’t tried to rush them back to the house.

Sterlas kicked back, propping himself up on a stump. He opened a bottle of mead, throwing Casil a glance. “You’re really getting interested in that old Nordic shit, aren’t ya?” He chuckled, grinning.

Casil finally looked up from the book, eyes squinting as she tried to adjust to looking at a distance again. ‘I’m finally starting to be able to _read_ it’

“I didn’t even know people had records of that anymore,” he said, taking a sip of his mead. He looked up at the stars and the auroras that danced overhead. “Why don’t you go into that, huh? I mean, you’re a part of the College aren’t ya? I’m sure that’s got more in it for you then meltin’ down daggers,” he asked.

Casil shrugged, moving to lay on her stomach. ‘Too boring, I guess’

Sterlas snorted, giving his wiry beard a scratch. “There’s always need for field research, ain’t there?”

Casil shrugged again. It was her response to most things, and Sterlas assumed it was sheerly out of her lack of interaction with others. Not many questions were ever asked of her and she never cared to consider them.

The bosmer drew circles in the dirt with a small stick she had found under her fur pile, resting her head on a hand propped up by a elbow. He could tell she was thinking, so he remained silent until she finally dropped the stick to reply with something more.

‘It doesn’t feel right’

It was all she answered, but that was enough for Sterlas. The man gave a nod of his head, bringing up a knee to rest an arm on. His gaze returned back to the sky, letting out a hearty sigh.

“Fair on that. You do you. I admire you for stickin’ to that,” he said, raising his mead in a toast-like motion to her before finishing it off.

With a long exhale, Casil rolled onto her back to watch the stars as well. ‘This works fine for now. Maybe i’ll find something else to do later. Maybe i’ll move again,’ she signed, before letting her hands flop to her chest. She yawned, before curling into her bedroll. ‘Dumb war is still going anyhow. It will keep money and body parts coming my way,’ she signed with a tired smile, before giving Sterlas a thumbs up as her face disappeared into the furs.

Sterlas chuckled again, and relaxed back on the stump. “I guess you’re right about that one,” he replied quietly. He kept his attention on the stars for a bit more, before turning in himself.


	3. III. Cheap Thrills

Whiterun was not a bad city in Casil’s opinion. If she had to live in an actual city, she would not have complained to live there. The walls felt claustrophobic at time, but she could understand the need. Most people could not fight off a bear, or had a handful of skeletons and a werewolf to keep their house safe.

Shop day was one of the only days Casil consistently used her horse for, which was fair considering that even with Sterlas’s help, there was no way for the woman to get all of her goods from one place to another without a carriage. Casil’s horse was not fast in the least, but it made up for that in shear strength and endurance. The big black horse had a fairly recent purchase by Casil when her shipments started to get far too big to carry on her own in any reasonable amount of time.

Whiterun was not the prime spot to sell at, but Casil liked to visit it more than other cities. It hadn’t taken a side in the civil war, but she still found that there were a handful of smiths there in need of metal thanks to war-related orders. Warmaiden’s was her go-to place in the city to sell to, followed by the Companions. Between the two, Casil was able to sell the bulk of her ingots and weaponry.

It was also one of the few times Casil bothered to hang around people. With a bag of coin in hand from her sales, Casil loitered around in the market square, looking at each stall as she passed. She was not there for merchandise though. She was there for _gossip._ While many things that floated around through the air weren’t true, it had given her pointers to places to investigate and things to avoid more times than she could count. Sterlas had disappeared at some point into the crowd with his share of coin, no doubt to hit up a tavern or possibly to hang out with the companions. He had made an impression on the group for reasons she could not understand, but she did not begrudge him it. It was more interesting company then her.

The market gossip was not interesting this time around. Casil had marked a few places in her map of battles and different army’s movements to investigate later, but little else was of interest. Most of the bandit news came from the usual bands Casil knew better than to take on, and nothing else really stuck out to her as particularly interesting. No treasure rumors, nothing mysterious going on. The bulk of the talk was filled with discussions about the last harvests and the upcoming winter, and all the preparations that went into it.

Casil headed outside of the city walls when evening rolled around. As there usually was, a band of khajiit had pulled in and made camp within the protection of the battlements. Casil liked the khajiit. The woman felt her mood lift when she recognized the caravan as one she was familiar with. A familiar black and grey khajiit Casil knew as Ahnaasi gave Casil a friendly wave as she approached, to which Casil returned it. Ahnaasi and Casil had met some seasons back, and Casil had managed to teach the khajiit some sign language.

“Ahh, it is good to see that you are here, my friend,” Ahnaasi said, giving the elf a grin from her side of the fire. Casil gave a bow of her head.

‘You too. Things been well?’ she signed slowly, making sure Ahnaasi had time to process what was being said.

Ahnaasi gave a nod of her head. “Yes, business has been well. But the cold is becoming unbearable. I miss the warm sands of Elsweyr,” she said with a sigh, ears tilting down before she gave a shake of her head. “Where is your companion?”

Casil gave a shrug. ‘Tavern, probably.’ Noticing Ahnaasi didn’t seem to understand the gesture, she pulled a notepad out of her bag to write it down for her.

Ahnaasi chuckled and leaned back. “Ahnaasi did not think the dog left your side.”

‘He has his own agenda, now that he’s back to being a human,’ Casil signed, filling in new signs with writing.

Ahnaasi let out a hum, swishing her tail. “What can this khajiit do for you, friend?” She asked.

Casil sat down on the ground with a thud. ‘Soul gems, lockpicks, and Elsweyr fondue,’ she said, pushing the scraps of a ashen relaxed mohawk out of her face.

Ahnaasi gave Casil a toothy grin. “The usual, of course.”

Casil relaxed back. Everyone had a toothy grin around her, she realized. Why was that?

 

Sterlas and Casil met up in the late morning the following day, both disheveled and in silent agreement that the weren’t allowed to give each other shit for it. The two sat on a bench under a tree, trying to block out the grating sound of a certain Talos priest down the street. Casil wondered how he could spend all day talking and shouting, and was rather miffed when she was unable to come up with a way to steal even a fraction of his voice to replace her own. Just a fraction! The man was as loud as a angry mammoth, and by the Nine Divine Casil hoped the man would get what was coming for him. She didn’t care much for the Talos debate; if anything, the Thalmor’s ban on the worship seemed to cause more problems than it had helped, which was about what she expected from anything they stuck their dirty fingers into. Their involvement with the Imperials had been a tempting reasons to exclusively supply to the Stormcloaks, if the Stormcloaks hadn’t in turn been xenophobic bigots.

Casil put her arms behind her head, lazily staring out at the marketplace. The air carried a sharp chill to it again, a reminder of winter’s swift approach. Casil debated on spending some of the gold on a new winter coat. The last one had gotten irreversibly dirty after a messy impromptu collection of freshly slain Stormcloaks. The wood elf shivered a little, before glancing at her companion.

Sterlas seemed less bothered by it. Maybe because he was a werewolf. The dark skinned man was hunched over, petting a heap of dogs that had followed him from their usual hangout at the Companion’s to a pile at his feet. Casil had always wanted a dog. She recalled her childhood dog and how much she had loved the beast, though after she met Sterlas she wasn’t sure if she wanted one. The bosmer had long debated with herself on what the line was where comparing Sterlas to a actual dog was rude or even racist, but sometimes she just remembered how many times she had tripped because the werewolf had decided that the doorway was the exact ideal place to lay down. Her father had almost lost a finger on a sword because their dog had done that. She had a few scars on her chest from falling into a heap of scrap metal because Sterlas did it. That was enough of a comparison for her.

“So.”

Sterlas’s voice broke her train of thought. He sat up as the dogs got up to wander back to their usual grounds. “What’s the plan now?”

Casil watched the dogs weave in and out of the crowd, before shrugging. ‘I want to buy a few more things before we leave town, before bad weather sets in. The biggest supplies, you know.’

Sterlas nodded. “So a few more days in town then?” He guessed.

Casil nodded. ‘I think so. Alright with you?’ The second part was added with some hesitation, still unused to asking his opinion. It was a weird thought for both of them.

Sterlas snorted though. “Yeah. Might as well. Just don’t blow all that money we just got, got it?” he teased, giving her a playful punch in the arm. It hurt Casil much more than her punches to him.

She rubbed her arm, cheeks puffed up as she gave him a mild glare. ‘Same for you,’ she signed, huffing.

His usually hideous toothy grin. “Got it boss,” he chided, before getting up and yawning. “You stay out of that skooma shit though. I know you hang out with those cats,” he said, patting her head.

Casil swatted his hand away, eyes rolling. ‘I have never touched the stuff. That was you,’ she signed angrily at him, but he had his back to her. She doubted he would have cared.

 

A new coat had been custom ordered, various parts for the house purchased, and Casil even went as far as purchasing a few new books for her collection. Casil felt productive. Sterlas had disappeared off again as he tended to now, which gave Casil a chance to be with her own thoughts. She appreciated his companionship, there was no doubting that. She would not dump him out in the cold now just because he could _talk._ It was just a sudden and strange thing to her.

Casil found a quiet place at the edge of town at the base of the tree. The shadow of the wall cast over her chosen location to her dismay, but it gave her a chance to breath from the stress of the city. She pulled out her journal and a few other books of reference, and set to translating a wall she had found several months prior. As she flipped the brittle, well worn pages of a book she had stolen from the College of Winterhold, she recalled Sterlas’s words.

Sterlas may not have been one to give life advice based on his own actions, but Casil knew he was just looking out for her. Didn’t want her to make a mistake or to back herself into some law breaking corner. Casil snorted to herself, comparing one of the symbols. Pah. She’d written herself into a corner far before she had met him. It was the reason she was even _in_ the frozen shit hole of a country anyways.

The suggestion just made her feel like she was letting someone else down. Casil shook the thought out of her head. If he didn’t like it, he could leave. Casil was quite content with what she was doing, and she was not going to just turn and become a  boring, sleepy mage who never left the books. She loved books, but she couldn’t imagine dedicating her life to them. Even a field researcher sounded too boring. And ultimately, most of it she felt would mean giving up necromancy, a thing she held dear. She knew there were necromancers at the college, but even in a place dedicated to discovery and the art of magic necromancy was looked down upon.

Casil had come to the conclusion that settling down was not a thing she was good at. Her childhood had involved a lot of moving and change, and she continued that into her adulthood. She wondered if she just didn’t like to be pinned down by something.

  
The wood elf finally shifted back to the inn room they had rented when the last of the sunlight had died out, and the torchlight was starting to strain her eyes.She had made progress, but it was not a lot. Several words she knew, several she thought she found translations for, but many more still remained a mystery. Casil shoved her hair out of her face as she sluggishly changed into sleeping wear, before falling face first into the pelts of the bed. Her coat just needed to be finished and she could go home and think about things in the quiet comfort of her own home.


	4. IV. Dog Days Are Over

The change had come rather suddenly and unexpectedly, and the news had traveled as quickly as the howling winds had. Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebellion, had been captured. Perhaps the war was going to finally come to an end.

Casil rubbed her mouth, sitting on the porch of the inn. Rain pounded down, slanted by the wind that had suddenly brought the clouds in sometime in the night. Casil rested her elbows on her knees, brow knitted in thought as she stared intensely at a nondescript spot in the distance.

On one hand, Casil sure was happy she had sold all of her inventory a few days prior when everyone had assumed the war was still in full swing. On the other hand, this would mean a dip in demand and a dip in supply. Casil narrowed her eyes to thin orange slits, making a sort of gurgling noise in her throat of discontempt. She had money though, enough to survive off of for some time. There were other frontiers to look at, and she knew if things weren’t working out that moving was always an option. Maybe to Elsewyr. Ahnaasi’s descriptions of the desert land made it sound like a decent place to head, and Casil felt she would probably get along with the khajiit far better than she did with the nords.

The door of the inn creaked open, and then closed with a bang as Sterlas came out and took a seat next to her. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the rain pound against the stone streets of the city. A few unfortunate folk darted through it, holding pelts or baskets over their heads as they darted from one cover to another. Finally, Sterlas spoke up.

“Ulfric captured. Those are words I never thought i’d hear,” he said simply, arms folded behind his head.

Casil didn’t reply. Sterlas glanced at her with his yellow eyes, before looking back at the street.

“You can become a bandit you know.”

Casil responded with a middle finger.

Sterlas gave a laugh. “Ah, come on. Don’t want to make your house into a bandit camp? Live on the road all the time? Sleep in flea filled rolls for a few gold?”

Casil moved her still raised hand in a circle for emphasis.

Sterlas’s smile didn’t disappear. “We didn’t fetch too bad from that barrow. How many do you reckon are still lootable?” 

Casil lowered her hand and finally looked away from her focus on space. She reached into her bag and pulled out her notebook and her map, smoothing them out on her lap. She tapped a few spots she had marked on her map, before signing ‘A few, not many though. All based on rumor and some research. Haven’t looked hard, but I wouldn’t bet more than a year’s worth of gold out of what I have.”

Sterlas made a whistle of thought, before reaching into a pouch on his shirt. He pulled out his mammoth tusk toothpick, idly picking at his teeth with it as he looked the map over.

“Dwemer ruins?” He questioned.

Casil motioned to a few more. ‘Most locked. Many i’m not sure we can take on.’

“That’s the sanest thing you’ve said in a while,” he mused. He looked back out at the city. The rain had slowed a little bit. “What’s the market for Dwemer metal?”

‘Going to drop, i’d imagine.’

“Artifacts?”

Casil made a thoughtful look at that. ‘Overpriced usually. Not a bad market I suppose. Limited though.’

Sterlas shrugged, eyeing the pick after pulling it out of his teeth. “Well, it’s a start.”

‘War isn’t over yet though,’ Casil signed. 

“You really think they’ll keep fighting after this?” He questioned.

‘Ulfric was captured, wasn’t he? That was all we know, is it not?’

Sterlas looked skeptical at her, eyebrow raised. He put the toothpick back in his pocket, before running a hand through his dreads. “Casil. Do you  _ really  _ want the war to continue?”

It was a serious question, and a sudden one Casil didn’t expect. 

Casil’s brow furrowed. She stared at Sterlas hard, thinking. She looked back down at her map, fumbling with her hands. 

‘I will do what I need to to get by,’ was all she replied with. Sterlas scratched the back of his head, letting out a idle grunt. 

“Fair enough, fair enough,” he replied gruffly. The usual sort of response from her. He wasn’t sure what else he expected from the wood elf. 

Casil folded up the map and tucked it into her journal before closing that as well and returning it to her bag. ‘Coat should be done by tomorrow. Then we leave,’ she said, getting up.

“And then?” Sterlas asked.

Casil put her hands on her hips. ‘Keep your ears open for me.’ 

Before he could question what for, she had gone back inside.

Sterlas sunk back into the chair. “Better not have another dumb plan,” he grumbled.

 

Of course she did though. She usually did. Helgen. That was all Casil needed. Even if it wasn’t  _ true,  _ Casil had explained that the rumor might be enough for some potential last ditch skirmishes in the area. If the war was going to end, Casil wanted to make the last battles count. 

 

They would pass by the house first and drop off what they had purchased in Whiterun before heading out, to camp on a ridge not far from the town and keep watch for anything of interest. 

 

Casil thanked the Divines that the weather had cleared up. She had climbed up into one of the tall, snowy pines that dotted the landscape, and with spyglass in hand. Sterlas waited back at the camp near the base of the tree, trying to keep the fire’s smoke to a minimum. Casil scanned the ground below. Helgen had more guards than usual. Casil scanned what she could see over the walls. Some of the imperials wore some fancy armor. Must be important ones. Casil drummed her fingers on the brass of the glass, before moving to scan the forest around the camp. Frustratingly empty. She had no trouble getting to their spot, so there weren’t guards blocking the road. A few Stormcloaks lingered in the woods though, keeping down and hidden. Smart move for them, frustrating one for her. 

“Any luck?” Sterlas called up, his tone hushed but loud enough to carry up to Casil. 

Casil made a few hand motions to signal that there were people, but no action. 

Casil leaned back, snapping the spyglass closed again. They were waiting no doubt for the arrival of their king. Casil figured it would be obvious Ulfric was there. The guard was too relaxed, if she could even say that. She could tell they were on edge, but she made her assumption it’d be more so when he arrived. It wasn’t long until the guards shifted, and Casil pulled her spyglass back out. A carriage made its way down the road towards Helgen. Casil scanned the cart. Four men, and Casil could only guess that the gaggled one was Ulfric himself. So it wasn’t a ruse. He really was being brought there. Casil shook a tree branch, causing snow to rain down and get Sterlas’s attention. 

“Action?” he questioned, glancing at the valley below them. He didn’t hear any fighting.

‘Ulfric.’

Sterlas raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Ya don’t say. The king killer really is here?”

Casil gave a nod, not moving from tracking the carriage. The gates opened, a few Stormcloaks made the run for their king. Easy picking for for the guard tower archers. Too close to the city for Casil to pick at though, and she huffed in frustration. She broke her gaze on Ulfric’s cart for a moment to look to see what the other Stormcloaks were doing. Moving in. A courier moving to tell other pockets of soldiers. Casil smiled. There we go. Skirmishes would be in motion, and if she was lucky there would be a good number of fights to pick from. Nothing big she knew, but it would be something. Casil’s little wiggle of celebration in the tree told Sterlas all he needed to know. He fixed a few logs on the fire, before scrambling skillfully up the tree after Casil. He perched on a lower, thicker branch and swatted at the woman’s side for the glass. She passed it down, rubbing her hands together like a raccoon. Sterlas scanned what he could see behind the wall, wishing they had camped on a higher hill. 

“Looks like they’re cuttin’ straight to the chase,” he said, spyglass coming to rest on the chopping block and the executioner in the center of the courtyard. There were several carts that had pulled in full of soldiers, that were now being unloaded by imperials with long lists in their hands. 

Casil scrambled to snag the glass back, wanting to get a look as well. Sterlas reluctantly gave it back to the wood elf, grumbling about needing to get another one. Instead, he fished around into his pocket for some gold coins and slapped them on one of the branches between them.

“10 gold says he goes down without a fight and this war nonsense is finally over.”

Casil shot Sterlas a sharp look, before digging in her pocket and slapping down 20, quickly gesturing that he would ‘yell himself free.’

Of course she’d bite. The redguard laughed, leaning forward eagerly.

“Casil, you and I are about to witness a piece of history, even if those damnable Thalmor find a way to write this out of the books,” he said, giving her a playful punch to the thigh. 

Casil kicked her legs a bit, being careful not to cause the coin to slide off the branch as she watched with anticipation for the deciding factor. The chopping line was formed. Someone had made a run for it and was pegged down with a skilled shot from a archer. Ulfric would be up to the block now. It would be foolish not to get him done with first. Being pulled up to the block, like a cow to the slaughter. Casil’s grin widened, giddy. The war was going to end, no doubt, but she was at least going to get to see the end. To the block, onto his knees-

Casil nor Sterlas would have ever predicted what happened. The ground gave a rumble, which caused Casil to furrow her brow. Sterlas blinked as the coin shook off the branch from the tremor, and before he could question it a black shadow drew the eye of both of the people up in the tree. Casil slowly lowered the spyglass from her face, and neither moved beyond that.

 

A dragon, black as night against the bright blue sky. Neither had seen where the beast had flown in from, but they caught it just as it landed on one of the towers. The people below in Helgen were as shocked as Casil and Sterlas were. The dragon craned his mighty neck to stare down at the man on the chopping block below, before his head lifted up. A mighty bellow of words echoed from his maw, and the earth shook again. Sterlas braced himself against the tree, and managed to catch Casil before she fell off herself. The air turned from still to a violent howl in a fraction of a second, and the sky turned an angry shade of red neither had ever seen before. And in a second, fire began to rain down. 

Neither waited any longer. Casil and Sterlas scrambled down from the tree as quickly as they could, landing roughly into the snow below them. Casil threw a glance over her shoulder as the dragon took to the sky.  Arrows flew from the towers, but the dragon made no reaction.

“Casil!” Sterlas shouted.

She turned her gaze back to her companion. He motioned for her to get over there in the midst of grabbing their bags that had largely remained packed. Casil let out an exhale, and started to run.

Things seemed like a blur. Fire crashed down into the tree. The force of the blast knocked Casil into the snow. The bite of the cold frost below and the sting of shards of wood caused her to wince, stunning her for a moment on the ground. The roar of the dragon echoed overhead, and as soon as sound returned to her ears she could hear the sound of fire as it licked over Helgen. Sterlas had run back over, grabbing her roughly by the back of her shawl and pulling her back to her feet. Her head spun. She turned to look back again at the town. The dragon slammed into another tower, massive clawed feet crushing the stone beneath them like dry sand. Guards toppled down over the edge. 

Sterlas scooped her up, transforming into a werewolf before throwing her over his shoulder, before he bounded away from the smoldering ruins behind them. Fire continued to crash around them, sending dirt and fragments of wood flying in a maelstrom of debris. Sterlas pulled them under a sturdy ledge of rock, using his body as a shield to cover the girl as well. 

Neither knew how long the assault lasted. Neither moved from their cover. A few times fire landed above them, raining ember and rocks down in front of them. The trees burned, and the two could only just see Helgen through the fire and smoke. The dragon left the landscape and city in an inferno, leaving one last mighty roar before disappearing into the sky again. Sterlas and Casil didn’t move until the smoke finally drove the two out.

Sterlas kept an iron grip on the small elf’s wrist as the two cautiously stepped out onto the hill. Both kept throwing their gazes to the sky in fear, weary the dragon might return. Neither could believe what had happened. 

They did not leave the hillside until the worst of the fire had settled. With absolute caution, the two approached what remained of Helgen. Bodies laid strewn across the road and the ruins, and though not all had been killed by the dragon attack, they had all obtained a frighteningly consistent level of charred on the outside of the walls. Casil even pulled up her shawl to cover her nose from the smell of burnt flesh. The two moved around the city until they found a gate safe enough to enter through. 

The inner sanctum was worse off. Only a few of the towers remained relatively intact, and the houses could not say the same. Casil could make out the smoldering shapes of the carts and the scorched remains of the horses that had drawn them. Blackened piles of bodies covered the ground and parts of the ruins as well, most burnt and melted beyond recognition. Metal melted down and merged with flesh, and Casil could not tell who was a Stormcloak and who was an Imperial. Was one of these bodies Ulfric’s? 

Casil wasn’t sure if it  mattered. 

 

The two walked very slowly through the remains of Helgen. Some fires still burned on the remains of wood structures, but the rest was nothing but thick smoke. Casil had torn a strip of cloth off of the bottom of her robe to tie around her nose and mouth, and had found a relatively unburned pole of some sort to use to move things. 

Outside, there was nothing left of interest. The fort, however, held more than just burnt remains. There were a handful of people who had clearly run inside to escape the fire and died not far from the door from the burns, but further in the two noticed the signs of human on human battle. As expected, some of the Stormcloak escaped. Both parties lay dead inside the building where the dragon and the fire hadn’t reached, and a handful of individuals had been killed by the collapse of a few of the tunnels. 

Casil had seen carnage. Casil cut people up as a hobby. But the level of destruction that had been brought on Helgen was beyond what she had ever seen.

 

Sterlas and Casil took one last uncomfortable glance at the smoking ruins of the town behind them. Sterlas shifted the bag on his back that they had filled with what little was salvageable.

“Now what?” Sterlas asked, his voice in a much more hushed tone then he usually used.

Casil didn’t look back at him. She didn’t have a answer for him either. 

The trip home was uncomfortable. They camped with no fire, huddled together in the dark. Neither slept well. The stench of burnt flesh and wood still carried heavily in the wind, and every sound caused the two to look at the sky in fear of a shape blocking out the stars. They traveled home at the turn of dawn, as soon as the sky was light enough to see. Their loot was tossed with little regard into the basement, where the two sat in silence for some time.

 

The silence and stillness was only broken when Casil finally let out a ragged sigh, before standing from her spot huddled in the corner. Sterlas glanced up at her, four bottle of mead clutched in a shaking hand.

Casil grabbed her bag, moving to pack it.

“What are you-”

Casil looked at him, her bright glowing eyes some of the only light in the dark basement. 

‘We’re going to Whiterun.’


	5. V. Hold Back The River

Casil hadn’t felt this tense traveling since she had fled from her home some years ago.  Every bush and shadow threatened to jump out at her and eat her. She hated feeling so vulnerable and afraid. Sterlas noticed it too, but he couldn’t blame her. They had witnessed a dragon, a single dragon, raze a heavily armored fort to the ground and leave without a scratch. They had witnessed a dragon. There was no mistaking what it was. Casil had shakily scrambled in search of any other answer to what they had seen. She had repeated over and over that it could have been something else, but neither could fool themselves into believing that. Sterlas didn’t dare ask Casil what a dragon could mean. He knew she was wondering the same thing. Casil read into things too much sometimes, and he did not want to add to it. She rejected a perfectly fine business deal once on the condition that she had seen an torchbug in a spiderweb outside the the shop.

 

Sterlas did not speak to her as they traveled, and Casil remained the quiet, stiff necromancer she normally was. The only addition was the abject look of fear that had now plastered itself to her face. Casil had spent a reasonable amount of time before they left assembling and bringing life to a slurry of new skeletons, who she commanded keep diligent watch over the house from select points of cover. Sterlas wasn’t sure what she hoped to achieve with that, all things considered, but if it took any level of paranoia away from the elf then he wasn’t going to complain. He figured she knew that 20 skeletons wasn’t going to do a scratch of damage to the beast if it decided to show up at her house. Sterlas did his best to loosen up and relax. If he looked paranoid, he knew Casil would get paranoid. The woman was fearless and bullheaded enough, but she knew when to worry. If her strongarm was afraid, then she was afraid. If he couldn’t handle it, she did not feel she could either.

It was a somewhat sobering thought for Sterlas. The mage might treat him like a brainless meatslab sometimes, but she was fully aware that if it came down to it, she would not win in a fight against him.

Both had to let out a sigh of relief when the peaked the final hill before the valley Whiterun sat nestled in. They had not seen smoke, but it did not keep the fear from taking root in their hearts that they might breach the hill to see the smoldering remains of Whiterun below them. They both made haste down the hill, wasting no time to finish the last leg of their journey. Sterlas tried to look relaxed as they made their way down past the farms, but subtly was not Casil’s thing. Farmers shifted uncomfortably as they passed, and whispered followed after them. The redguard’s keen hearing picked up that rumors had already spread. 

And the gate confirmed what he had been hearing. A guard halted them as they approached.

“Nobody is allowed in or out. The city is on lock down,” they said, arms crossed. 

Casil continued forward as if the guard hadn’t said a word, and before the guard could make a motion to stop her Sterlas had grabbed her himself. Casil shot the guard a look, before her hands flew into a fury of movement.

The guard flinched back at the sudden gestures, reaching to draw his sword until Sterlas quickly motioned that she meant no harm.

“We have word of the dragon attack. In Helgen,” Sterlas translated, ignoring all the colorful extras Casil was angrily adding in. “Step aside.”

The guard staggered backwards awkwardly, looking back at his fellow guard before returning his attention to the small, angry mute bosmer and the large, hairy redguard. 

“You better not cause any trouble,” the guard said, stepping back before he motioned for the gate to be opened.

Casil didn’t waste any time to shove her way past the guard. The gate had hardly been opened and Casil slid her thin frame through the narrow opening.

“Wait up, wait up,” Sterlas hissed, waiting for the gate to open wide enough for his bulk to fit through. By the time it did, Casil was already a good block and a half down the road. 

He had to admire the girl’s grit sometimes, but Divines be he was going to put her on a leash if she didn’t slow down sometimes. He sprinted after her, catching up with her in good time. Casil didn’t even look back before her hands were in a flurry of motion again, too fast for Sterlas to keep up with. It was complaining though, from what words he caught and the twisted look of irritation on her thin features. Probably wasn’t going to be the end of the world if he didn’t catch every word she said. He entertained her ranting as they swiftly made their way towards Dragonsreach, hoping she’d keep her attention aimed at him and not anywhere else. The last thing he wanted was for her to turn her irritation and fear towards someone else.

Sterlas repeated the spiel to the guards at the door of Dragonsreach, and with the same hesitation the guards let the odd duo inside. The werewolf cursed himself for not grabbing Casil before they entered, because the woman bolted off in a flash towards the Jarl at the end of the long hall, hands and fingers a tornado of gestures and movements. It was a wonder that nobody had just shot her down with a well aimed arrow or spell that Sterlas expected of the Jarl’s guard, but perhaps they were simply caught surprised. All present in the hall snapped their attention to the bosmer in shock, and the only one who made any meaningful movement was the Jarl’s housecarl, who was now walking at Casil with sword drawn and the posture that told Sterlas that Casil was about to turn into a horker steak if she didn’t stop and explain herself.

Which to be fair, she was. Unfortunately, soundless words fell on listening ears.

Sterlas trotted up behind her, hands up in a gesture of peace. “We mean no harm-” he grabbed Casil by the scruff of her shawl again, pulling her back a few feet. “She can’t speak, so I will translate for you since,” he eyed the dumfounded group, “I take it none of ya understand what all this waving means.” 

Which was fair, since he hadn’t either until Casil had painstakingly taught him.

“What is the meaning of this? Who are you, and why are you here?” The Dunmer asked, weary look on her face and sword ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

Casil turned to face Sterlas more than the others, and rapidly began to sign at him.

“We witnessed the dragon attack at Helgen. She says that she likes this city and doesn’t want to see it turned into a smoldering shit hole, so she thought she’d warn you.”

The Dunmer made a face of confusion, wondering if that was actually what was being said, but the Jarl waved his hand.

“Irileth, let them approach. If they have news, I wish to hear it,” Jarl Balgruuf said, unmoving from his seat. 

Casil puffed her chest up, and scooted her way around the large firepit that took up the center of the longhouse so she could stand before the Jarl. Sterlas followed, standing behind her like a bodyguard. Casil gave a polite bow of the head in acknowledgement to the Jarl. 

“Is it true, then? That Helgen was attacked by a dragon?” He asked, brow furrowed. Silence fell on the room again.

Casil nodded her head, before moving her hands again.

“Black as night with a fire hotter than she’s ever seen. He made the sky turn red and fire fall like rain from the heavens. Couldn’t find a soul alive. Torched down to a cinder.” 

The Jarl pursed his lips, before looking at his assistant. “Irileth was right!” he exclaimed, before looking back to Casil and Sterlas. “Did you see where it was headed?”

Casil nodded again.

“Riverwood, we think.”

It was obviously not the news Balgruuf had wanted to hear. He let out a heavy sigh, sewing his eyes shut for a moment. “We must send detachments over at once. I will not allow for Riverwood to be left open to attack.”

The man to his left shifted uncomfortably at the notion. “But if we send troops to Riverwood, it will look like we’ve picked sides and-”

“I will send them at once,” Irileth interrupted, ignoring the other man. Balgruuf nodded his head to her in approval of her choice, and the dunmer swiftly left the room.

Casil and Sterlas stood in front of the Jarl uncomfortably, suddenly regretting their involvement with… anything, really. Sterlas silently cursed Casil for suddenly throwing them into the spotlight, and cursed himself more for going along with it. He understood that Whiterun was her main business hub, but Divines the werewolf did not like putting himself out in the open like this.

The two waited awkwardly as the Jarl made his orders and demands to the underlings around him, who all flew to their jobs the moment they were dismissed. At last, his attention returned to the other two.

“Thank you, for warning us. The information is invaluable. Whiterun will be as ready as it can if the dragon should attack.”

Casil gave him a skeptical look and made some hand motions. Balgruuf raised an eyebrow and looked to Sterlas for a translation.

Sterlas gave the man a peevish smile. “She’s wondering what you think a bunch of guards are gonna do against a dragon, since we just saw a whole group of Imperial guards get cut down like wheat to a scythe.”

“Is that _ really  _ what she’s saying or are you just interjecting your own flare into it!?” The man to the left of the Jarl exclaimed, voice cracking a bit.

“Proventus….” The Jarl began with a warning tone.

“No, word for word. Swear on my life and to any Divine you ask me to.”

Balgruuf let out a long sigh, before shaking his head. “I will do the best I can to protect my people. Now, if you would like to help more,” he stood up from his seat, motioning to the right wing of the hall, “my court mage might be able to use your assistance.”

Casil and Sterlas exchanged looks. Sterlas hesitated for a moment, before roughly signing to her. ‘Could be gold in it for us. Extra few coins eh?’

Casil looked at Sterlas with raised brows, clearly rather interested in  that outlook. She gave a nod and followed after Balgruuf.

‘Besides, how bad could it be?’

Not bad, but something that made Casil roll her eyes.

Casil decided the instant she saw him that she did not like this mage, and Sterlas could tell by the upturned lip and squinted eyes that the reason was something impeccably petty. He put his money on the muttonchops, which seemed to be a fashion choice Casil couldn’t stand.

“Farengar, I may have found you some assistance for that dragon project of yours,” Balgruuf stated, stopping across the desk from the mage with his arms crossed.

Farengar glanced between the Jarl and Casil skeptically, before giving a light shrug and turning to speak to the necromancer. He opened his mouth to speak, but Casil was already in a flurry of signing.

“Doesn’t care about background, just tell her what she needs to do,” Sterlas translated, a feeling he quite happily agreed with for once. 

Farengar closed his mouth, lips pursed in some frustration before he glanced back in the direction of the Jarl. The nord had already left the room and was walking back to his throne, leaving the court mage to figure this one out on his own. The wizard folded his arms across his chest.

“Alright then, cutting straight to the chase I see. I need you to fetch a rock from Bleakfalls Barrow. Simple task.”

Casil’s hands flew into motion.

“She wants to know if you think she looks like your lacky.”

Farengar’s lips pursed tighter together, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Do you want to help or not?”

“What’s in it for us?”

“That is up for the Jarl to decide, not me,” he said defensively. 

“She wants to know why you need the rock.”

“You just told me you didn’t want to know the background of this-”

“And she’s changed her mind.”

Sterlas forgot how insufferable Casil could be, but direct translation was his thing. If she wanted to be a prick about it he wasn’t going to write it out of his response. 

Farengar let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his face before he turned to a heap of paper on the desk in front of him. “The dragonstone might help give me an idea why the dragons are returning, to put it simply,” he said, flipping over one of the crinkly sheets of paper. “Is that enough information for you?”

Casil had already left the room. Sterlas watched the small woman scurry away towards the main doors, before looking back at Farengar.

“Hermits, am I right?” Sterlas said, flashing a smile, before he turned to follow after his companion. Every social interaction Casil had with others was a new, breathtaking level of social ineptness that never ceased to blow Sterlas’s mind. He was no well mannered, silver tongued bard, but by the Nines Casil’s behaviour was offensive to even the ex-bandit. He had found trying to correct her made her cranky and she gave him the stink eye when he left out important and colorful language when he translated.

Well, he had tried and that was enough for him. A pat on the back he supposed. She’d either learn someday when people stopped taking her shit or she wouldn’t.

Casil was swiftly descending the stairs and had almost reached the end by the time Sterlas had even reached the door. 

“Casil, slow down would ya?” Sterlas called, following after her. Casil looked back at him, cheeks puffed up. Once he had returned to her side, they continued towards the gate as she fumbled with her map, trying to find Bleakfalls Barrow and mark a route. Sterlas reached over and jabbed a finger at the map. “It’s right here. Been there once. Not far inside. Popular bandit hang out,” he stated, folding his arms once Casil had marked it on her map. She surveyed the routes, before nodding to herself and folding it up to return it to her bag.

‘Treating me like a errand boy. How dare he,’ Casil signed, looking miffed.

“You agreed to help. You can’t get mad when it’s a fetch mission,” Sterlas replied calmly, walking a few steps behind her.

‘Why can’t he do it himself?’

Sterlas shrugged. “He’s a court wizard. He doesn’t have as much freedom to go out and dig around as you do, Casil.”

Casil made a strangled grunt. ‘This is why I don’t want to do research. I don’t want to be tied down to boring things like the Jarl.’

“Hey, it’s a reputable job with a steady pay and a house. Most people would kill for that,” Sterlas remarked. “I know your freedom is more valuable to you then coin is, so.”

Casil’s hands rose to continue her petty complaining, but she stopped and let them just fall to her side. To let her thoughts fester in her own mind, Sterlas assumed. Her usual route. She wasn’t used to actually getting replies to her complains. He recalled with some fuzziness that Casil had complained at him a lot when he had been unable to turn into a human. She was not expecting an answer, as he could not give one, but it was a way for her to get things off her head.

She just wasn’t happy when he now had things to say back to them, let alone things that made her have to  _ think.  _


	6. VI. Earth Rising

Bleakfalls Barrow was a notable landmark for all that lived in Riverwood and Whiterun. It’s ominous silhouette loomed on the peak of one of the mountains on the skirts of Riverwood, huge arches and pillars that were impressive even for the Nordic ruins. It was visible for miles, a eerie reminder of the past that had survived the harsh elements for thousands of years.

Casil had never been to it before, and had never realized that Bleakfalls Barrow was  _ this  _ ruin. It was well known, and far from hidden; and the fact that something could still be found inside that had not been taken already was a worrying sign to Casil.

The two adventurers crouched behind one of the great black pillars that lead up to the Barrow itself, bundled tightly in furs to keep out the howling wind and biting shards of snow and ice that it brought. 

“There’s a few bandits up there,” Sterlas noted, pointing out two unfortunate men who got to patrol the huge expanse in the front of the Barrow. Casil nodded, burrowing her face into the furs at the edge of her hood.

‘More inside?’ She questioned.

“Probably. In this weather, certainly,” he said with a grunt. “The main chamber right inside is spacious. Could hold a lot of bandits. Keep on your toes, got it? And watch for traps.”

With that Sterlas shook himself and transformed into a werewolf, sniffing the air before he bounded up towards the bandits patrolling the outside.

Casil let some distance grow between them, waiting for the bandit’s attention to be drawn to the charging werewolf before she stepped out from behind the pillar. Fire burned in her hands as she shuffled through the snow, aiming a shot at the bandit that didn’t charge to meet the foe head on. Her attack connected, and while she couldn’t see where the man had fallen to, Casil felt confident it had been enough to take care of him. Sterlas had no issue with the other one, and Casil was about to relax when an arrow narrowly missed her right shoulder. The wood elf squinted and quickly tried to figure out where the owner of the arrow was, but Sterlas was already on it. A snarl and a muffled scream was enough for Casil to know her problem was solved. She waded up the stairs and to the cover by the door where Sterlas was crouched, one large claw rested over the mangled face of the bandit they had initially missed.Sterlas let out a rumble in his throat, and Casil gave him a scratch on the head before moving to stand at the side of the door. She readied fire in her hands, looking at Sterlas before nodding her head.

The werewolf turned to the door and shoved it open with a shoulder, wasting no time in charging into the sanctum. Casil was thankful to see only two other bandits were inside, neither of whom were expecting a werewolf to burst in. They had been sitting around a small fire at the far end, and only one of them managed to get their weapon in time before Sterlas was upon them. Casil held her shot so she wouldn’t hit her companion, quickly rushing in after. 

A greatsword was swung at Sterlas with expert precision. The wolf snarled as the blade sliced through his side, sending a splatter of blood against one of the pillars. The werewolf bared his blackened teeth, before swinging a claw at his armed opponent. They back stepped out of the way, trying to buy their companion time to grab her own weapon. Sterlas took a few more swings, missing each, but the bandit did not get to swing again. Casil threw a fireball, and although it was aimed far lower than she hand intended it slammed into the pot that hung over the fire. Steaming hot soup splashed out onto the bandit, causing them to reel back in pain. It was enough of a opening for Sterlas to get in a fatal blow to the neck with one of his massive claws, before he turned and pounced on the other bandit.

Casil surveyed the bodies. She would collect what was useful on the way back out. She found that to be the easiest way to deal with situations like this. She walked over to the werewolf, raising her hands to heal his wound. Casil shoved the dog’s face away before he tried to lick it, her other hand glowing with a bright yellow-white light and a hum of energy. Sterlas waited patiently, sniffing the air. He could smell other bandits further down the tunnel, and draugr. He let out a low rumble in his throat until Casil patted him on the shoulder, her work finished. Sterlas didn’t bother to check. It felt good enough, and that was all he needed to keep going. Sterlas started down the stairs to the next room, but Casil whistled for him to wait. They needed to check everything, in case the bandits had already found what they were looking for. Casil just hoped the damn rock was actually in Bleakfalls Barrow. Sterlas glanced over his shoulder, before sitting down in wait on the stairs.

Neither bandit had it, and neither did the chest they had resting a few feet from the fire. They did, however, contain coins, which was a substitute Casil was willing to accept. Sterlas gave a grunt, before going back down the stairs. Casil followed after the wolf once she had lit a torch on the campfire.

 

The bandits clearly had been having a issue with the local draugr, because the halls that lead down from the initial sanctum was littered with bodies from both sides. Casil made sure to check each one as they passed, but as she had guessed none had what they were looking for. Beyond the signs of struggle, they didn’t see anything that was actually alive until the usual webbing that coated abandoned ruins like this began to thicken. Casil lit a fire in the palm of her hand, eyes locked on the ceiling more than anything else. She hated spiders if only for the fact that the damn beasts had a habit of just suddenly turning up from odd places. It was much harder to watch for a enemy that was skilled at climbing onto anything and smashing into small spaces.

Sterlas’s ears perked up as they walked, and the wolf tilted his head. Casil glanced to her companion, then ahead again as she tried to listen for what he heard. It was not what she was expecting.

It was howls for help. Casil narrowed her eyes a little. No, that was not what she was expecting at all. Someone was all the way down there, and Casil made a guess that the fool was stuck up in all the webbing. Another reason she didn’t like spiders, and another reason she favored fire. Sterlas picked up his pace, his huge bulk picking up webbing as he trotted down the hall.

“Help!” 

Unless the draugr had decided to take up studying the modern language, Casil assumed it had to be one of the bandits. 

“Somebody please! Get me out of this thing!”

Spider web, no doubt. Casil rolled her eyes, but proceeded with caution. Sterlas had gotten a decent ways ahead of her, and now waited before the entry to the room Casil assumed the victim was in. Casil caught up to him, eyeing the massive amount of webbing the werewolf had collected on him in the process of going down the tunnel. The bosmer peered very carefully through the thick webbing and roots that hung down from the ceiling in front of the open doorways. Casil could make out the shape of someone in the darkness at the other end of the room, though she honestly could not say if that was the one yelling or a different victim.

The question was, where was the spider that had made the webs?

Sterlas apparently didn’t want to wait to find out. He had paused long enough for Casil to catch up, and while she was looking for the man screaming the werewolf had wandered inside of the room after shoving his way through a thick stretch of webbing. 

The man let out another scream. “It’s coming back! It’s coming back! Oh kill it kill it don’t let it get me!” he howled. Casil could see the object she assumed was a man wiggle, confirming that it was the source of the noise and not a old corpse or a shadow. 

The sizes Tundra Spiders and their relatives got to was frightening really, Casil thought. From the ceiling descended a spider the size of two horses, its eye bright yellow eyes fixated on the werewolf that had just pushed its way into the webbing. The sound of its legs rubbing against each other gave her the heebie-jeebies. 

Sterlas wasted no time in charging the spider, but the webbing he had run into and was now walking on made him slower than he had anticipated. The spider’s front legs lifted up aggressively, and the beast let out a sort of hissing noise before striking at the werewolf with its arm-length fangs. Sterlas let out a yelp, jumping back at the impact. The spider pushed forward, chittering as it tried to corner down what it hoped would be its next prey. Casil stumbled into the room, waving her torch to try to clear up any of the remaining web in the doorway before she hurled a fireball at the spider. It recoiled back from Sterlas, backing itself up the wall before it spat a acidic ball of webbing at Casil. She side stepped it, anticipating the attack, before hucking another fireball at it. The attack hit again, and the spider let out another hiss as it tried to back up and retreat into the giant funnel web it had built in what had probably been something like a skylight at one point, based on the very faint light that was filtering through years and years worth of webbing and probably a few molts.

Casil tossed the torch to the ground, running to get a good shot on the spider as it spat and scurried back into its hole. A ball of flames concentrated between her hands, and once it threatened to engulf them she tossed the sphere at the spider. The spider let out another sort of gurgled hissing, before it lost its footing and fell.

Sterlas reminded himself, as the spider came tumbling down and onto Casil, was to teach the dumb woman how to dodge or at least have a little better reaction time.

The spider landed with a meaty thud onto Casil, knocking her onto her back. The wood elf made a face, waving a hand to blow away the smell of scorched chitin. It was dead though, but that still hadn’t been enough to get the man stuck in the web to stop screaming.

Sterlas wandered over, wincing from the strike and the poison coursing through his veins. It could have been worse, but it  _ hurt.  _ He helped shove the carcass off of his companion, before slowly making his way over towards what Casil could now see was a dunmer. 

Needless to say, this did not lessen the screaming.

“Oh god! Don’t eat me!” He howled, thrashing around in the web like a madman. Sterlas kept his approach, and Casil assumed it was just to harass the man. The dunmer let out a unmanly scream, trying his absolute damnedest to get a leg free of the webbing so he could push the werewolf’s face back. 

Casil picked the torch up off of the ground, thankful it hadn’t gone out before she walked over to the man with a roll of her eyes. She gave Sterlas a playful shove to show the bandit that he meant no harm.

“Cut me down, please! Before more spiders come or something-” he stammered. 

Casil gave a half hearted shrug. She was going to have to cut him down one way or another, since apparently the spider had been rude enough to use him as a door block for the next room. She carefully used the torch to burn the webbing away enough for the dunmer to wiggle himself free. Once his feet were safely on the floor, Casil carefully reached into her bag to dig for her notebook, assuming that the man would not understand her hand gestures… 

But the man was gone. Sterlas hadn’t even been expecting it. The dunmer had hardly been free when he turned tail and booked it down the tunnel. “You will never get me! The Golden Claw is mine!” He howled from somewhere down the way, voice echoing off of the stone walls. 

Casil silently cursed, scrambling to shove the notebook back into her bag. Of course he was just going to take off like that. Sterlas glanced at her to see if she wanted him to go after the dunmer, but a howl of pain and the sharp, haunting bark of a draugr was enough of an answer.

Casil re-adjusted her clothing with a shake of her head before heading down the tunnel, fireball ready in hand for whatever draugr was waiting a little ways down. When they found it, the draugr had turned its back on them, which was a wonderful free hit for Casil. The undead went down without a fight, and with Sterlas blocking the tunnel they had yet to go down the bosmer crouched down by the body of the other elf. 

Golden claw, huh? Casil rummaged around through his bag before she found what the man had been talking about. It was hefty, not made of solid gold like Casil expected, but whatever else made up the bulk of the claw was not a light material. She turned the artifact over in her hand, wondering who in the Nine’s name had designed something that look liked that. The dragon she had see sure as Oblivion didn’t have a foot that looked as delicate as this one. Her attention fell on three circles in the palm of the claw. The first held a bear, the second a moth, and the third an owl. She furrowed her brow, lifting the claw to show Sterlas. The werewolf tilted his head, before returning his gaze down the tunnel. 

Casil picked a few coins off of the bandit, before returning to her guard’s side. 

‘Let’s keep going.’

 

The tunnels of Bleakfall Barrow snaked down into the mountain, once or twice scraping the edge where the ceiling might have collapsed in enough to reveal the sky overhead. Like any other ruin, the Barrow was home to a swath of draugr and littered with traps. Casil checked every room thoroughly for anything that could resemble a ‘dragonstone’. She couldn’t help but keep wondering if the claw she had picked up was what the court wizard had wanted, but she couldn’t fathom what kind of secrets a bear, moth and owl would reveal about the dragon a few days prior.

‘Do you think it’s even down here?’ Casil signed to Sterlas at one point, standing on one of the shelves to try to see the top of another one. Sterlas gave his characteristic werewolf grunt in response. 

 

Casil was sure it had been a few hours by the time the two stumbled down to a long hallway that ended in a heavy stone door of a flavor neither had ever seen before. 

Casil paused in the entryway, hesitating to step inside. She squinted and held her torch up, trying to see if she could spot any obvious traps. There were none, so she carefully scooted inside. 

Her attention immediately fell on the reliefs on the walls. Depictions of dragons, of man, of priests who served the dragons. She slowly walked down the hall, torch held high as she looked at the great carvings with wide eyes. Sterlas followed cautiously, ears pinned back against his head as he glanced at the carvings as well. Slowly, Casil’s attention turned to the door. It was heavy and made of carved stone. Three rings made up the bulk of the door, with a metal plate in the very center that had three holes in it. Each ring had another smaller circle in it, each depicting an animal. Casil looked the door over, awed at its craftsmanship. 

Her free hand reached down into her bag, pulling out the dragon claw. She turned it over in her hand again, looking it over before looking back to the door. The elf tucked the claw under her arm, before reaching to turn the giant stone wheels.

Bear, moth, owl.

The stones grated against each other as they turned, causing dust to rain from the ceiling and the ground to shake a little. Sterlas took a step back from the door, uneasy. Casil took a deep breath, picking the claw back up again. She carefully put the claw’s nails into the holes, and turned it.

The earth rumbled, and Casil and Sterlas took a few stumbling steps back as the door shuddered. The wheels turned until they all matched the same symbol, before with a few loud clunks the stone door sank into the floor. Casil’s eyes went wide, and almost sparkled with enthusiasm. The claw had opened the door! It made her giddy. This was the kind of things adventure tales always told about, and oh did it make Casil excited. Suddenly the trip was turning out to be so much more interesting than she had originally anticipated it to be, and without  much hesitation she went bolting off down the opened hall. Had anyone even been down to this section of the ruins? Oh Casil was so  _ excited.  _ Maybe she would get to discover something new! Maybe all the treasure would still be there for the looting. What great goods would be worth hiding behind such a well constructed door?

Sterlas huffed, eyeing the wall and the hole the door had sunk into wearily. Nordic ruins. Always a new surprise. He followed after her.

 

The path led further down. There wasn’t as much treasure as Casil had been hoping, but she could tell the place had been left untouched beyond the handful of draugr that were still roaming the halls. Not easy draugr either, they found. Their aggression was a sure sign to the necromancer that they must be getting closer to whatever secret the door hid.

And sure enough, they soon pushed heavy iron doors open into what seemed like a naturally formed cave, something that surprised Casil. Some light filtered down overhead from a gap in the ceiling at the end of the cave, and a handful of bats took off at the sudden activity. Snow drifted down with a chilling wind, causing small drifts of snow to build up against the wall of words that rested at the end. A waterfall poured down on their left, creating a swift stream that cut the cavern in half. A bridge had been built between the two sides though, implying the stream and fall had been there since the ruin’s creation. The walls were lined with sarcophagi, a familiar sight at this point to the werewolf and the bosmer. 

Casil carefully stepped into the chamber, making her way towards the bridge cautiously. She was amazed nobody had been down there before, though she realized the fall from the small gap overhead would be a fatal one if you didn’t have a rope to rappel yourself down with. She wondered if ice covered it part of the year anyways.

Once over the bridge, Casil’s attention fell on the coffin that rest a few feet in front of the wall, next to a chest and a shelf. Casil nodded to Sterlas. They needed to keep an eye on that one, of all the sarcophagi in the room.

The sound of Casil’s shoes hitting the stone echoed through the chamber. Fire lingered in her hand, and she set the torch down into a holder near the edge of the wall to free up her other hand. Casil scooted her way to the middle of the wall, waiting to see if something would pop up out of the sarcophagus. No movement came from the stone box, so Casil gave Sterlas a glance before turning to look at the wall.

For a brief moment, Casil felt light headed. She furrowed her brow, feeling her vision darken and blur. She heard Sterlas let out a muffled bark as she took a few steps backwards, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

Her senses reeled back in when her ears were greeted with the shattering sound of a stone slab slamming into the ground, shattering into pieces before cluttering over the edge of the platform. Casil whirled around to look behind her. A draugr, much more ornately armored than the others she had seen, stepped out of its coffin. Sterlas was charging up the stairs, but he did not get there in time to stop the overlord from taking a swing at Casil.

Casil flinched back. It wasn’t enough to stop the blow from landing, but it was enough to keep it from being a fatal one. Pain ripped out through her arm as a halberd sliced through it, sending her to the ground from the sheer force of the blow. Sterlas landed a powerful blow onto the draugr before it could get in another long winded swing, sending the undead crashing back into rocks. Casil struggled to get up to her feet, reaching to grip her arm as she stumbled back from where the draugr had fallen. Had it been human, the blow might have been enough to put it out of business. But the undead were far more resilient than that. The draugr hissed and pushed itself back up from the rocks, picking up its weapon as glowing blue eyes fixated on its opponents.

“Aav dilon!” 

Casil only understood one of the two words the overlord hissed out of its gaunt, pale face, and she was not glad the only word she understood was ‘dead’. Light glowed around her hand as she tried to heal her wound, leaving Sterlas to fight off the undead for a moment.

Its attacks were slow and predictable, but it swung with the intent to kill and with more skill then Casil had seen most other draugr use. Sterlas managed to parry a few of the attacks with well aimed strikes, knocking the weapon away, but it did not prevent the draugr from getting a few good blows in. Sterlas’s bulk helped him to shrug off the worst of it, but the damage was apparent. Sterlas snarled at the undead, swatting at it with his claws in hope of catching it enough to knock it over again. Casil managed a fireball in one hand once her wound had closed up enough for her to move her arm without too much pain, and the attack hit its mark. The draugr whipped its attention to her again, and suddenly straightened out its back.

“ _ Fus ro dah! _ ”

Casil did not know what had just happened. The force that exploded out from the draugr was unlike that Casil had ever heard of or seen, and it sent her back into the word wall with enough force to black her out. 

 

Sterlas would later explain that she had only been out for a few minutes, but Casil thought it was much longer. She sat up with a wince, reaching back gingerly to rub the back of her head. Her hand recoiled back feeling dampness, and sure enough some blood tinged her fingers from the wound. The draugr lay dead in a heap of rocks to the side of the word wall, and Sterlas loyally waited next to her, back to his human form.

“You alright kiddo?” 

Casil winced, leaning forward and closing her eyes tightly as her head pounded. She let out a sharp exhale of pain, before waving a free hand to signal ‘no’. Like hell she was shaking her head.

Sterlas rummaged through his bag, before pulling out a healing potion. “Drink up then. Take it easy. Don’t get up too fast, ya hear me?” He said sternly. 

Casil huffed and carefully drank down the potion, before pulling her knees up to her chest while she waited for the pounding and pain in her head to go away.

Sterlas got up, walking over to the shelf. Casil could hear the clutter of things hitting each other, before whatever the redguard had grabbed was set down in front of her. She pulled her arms away from her head to peer with one eye at what had been placed before her.

Spread out on a length of burlap was what Casil assumed was the spoils of the battle. Gold, gems, some jewelry, what Casil could tell was a enchanted elven dagger, and a honestly drab looking hunk of stone that she assumed was the dragonstone. She reached out and pulled the hunk of rock over, which was much larger and heavier than she had been expecting. A passage in draconic was carved into one side, inlaid with gold, while the other was a map of Skyrim itself. Casil furrowed her brow at the map. Notches had been carved out over it. They weren’t inlaid with gold like the rest of the map, but she could tell they had been carved in with purpose and not divots made from the passing of time. 

Once the pain had receded enough, Casil reached into her bag for her journal and charcoal. Just because she had to turn this into someone else didn’t mean she didn’t want her own copy. She pulled some pages out of the book, carefully laying them out on either side of the rock before rubbing the charcoal over it. 

“Smart plan,” Sterlas remarked, watching her carefully arrange the pieces of paper on the map so the rubbing would match up without leaving any of the map out. Once it had all been copied out, she tenderly returned the pages to the journal.

‘Let’s get going and return this rock to that mage. I want to translate this myself.’


	7. VII. Fire

Casil and Sterlas had turned in the rock to Farengar and had hardly left the mage’s wing of Dragonsreach when the main doors slammed open, causing Casil to jump in surprise and Sterlas to raise an eyebrow. 

A guard came stumbling in, out of breath and drenched in sweat. “Dragon!” He gasped, staggering up the stairs. “A dragon!”

Irileth’s eyes widened from her seat at one of the two long tables that stretched either side of the hall. She jumped to her feet, the sudden movement causing the table to shake and a few of the silver goblets to topple over. “Where?”

Casil and Sterlas stepped back, glancing at each other with an all encompassing look of ‘fuck’.

“The Western Watchtower. I ran here as fast as I could,” he said, out of breath. 

Farengar peered out of his room from behind Casil and Sterlas. “A dragon? In Whiterun?” He asked excitedly. Casil rolled her eyes at him.

Irileth motioned for the guard to follow, before her eyes fell on Casil and Sterlas. “You two. Come with me.”

Oh no. Casil’s face paled.  _ Oh no. _

Irileth and the haggard guard hurried up the stairs that lead to the second floor at the back of the building, Farengar tagging at their heels and babbling on about how he would love to see the dragon and study it.

Casil and Sterlas hesitated and glanced at each other, in silent debate on if they followed or if they wanted to take their chances in booking it back out the door. The two took too long to decide, because Irileth barked at them to hurry up and get up there before they could make a break for it.

The two reluctantly followed up the stairs, Sterlas muttering something under his breath about playing hero and how it was going to get them killed.

The Whiterun guard had just finished up explaining what was going on to Balgruuf when Sterlas and Casil got to the top of the stairs. The guard was dismissed, Farengar sent back to his wing, and after a few orders  to Irileth he turned his attention to the two.

“I want you to help Irileth and the guards. You two are the only one with any experience dealing with dragons,” he said sternly. 

Casil could feel any last shreds of hope to get out of this leave her. 

‘Maybe we could make a run for it while they’re fighting.’ Casil signed to Sterlas. 

“Yes, my Jarl,” Sterlas decided to say instead, though the awkwardness and hesitation was apparent. Sterlas grabbed Casil’s wrist and turned to head back down the stairs, and Irileth followed after them. The redguard could feel the dunmer’s eyes drilling into the back of his head. She wasn’t going to let them run away from this, he could tell. Sterlas made a face to himself. And if they did make a run for it the consequences would probably be enough to cause the two to skip town for good.

‘What do we do?’ Casil signed over and over again, making a face at Sterlas. Sterlas just gave her a wide-eyed shrug.

‘You got us into this,’ he signed back.

Casil looked offended, though he couldn’t tell if it was jokingly or not. Instead of replying, she just flipped him off and continued down towards the city gate.

Irileth had sent a call for guards to meet up at the gate and sure enough, a handful of men stood waiting with torches in hand. Night had fallen hours ago, and few people traveled the streets… a factor Casil and Sterlas were thankful for. They didn’t need to deal with the panic. The two loitered back behind Irileth, taking their time but still walking. She shot them a look as she passed, but she hurried over to the nervous looking guards. 

Casil and Sterlas paid no attention to Irileth’s hype speech. Casil was fidgeting violently, hands half between signing and general fidgeting. Sterlas couldn’t lie that he was scared shitless, but he knew if he showed it Casil would probably just start Whiterun on fire and book it out there. Sterlas puffed his chest up, giving her a playful punch in the arm. 

“We got this kid,” he muttered to her. Casil glanced up at him skeptically.

‘I can’t believe i’m going to die to a dragon,’ she managed to sign. 

“At least it’ll be interesting if you do,” Sterlas tried to joke, but Casil just ignored it. The gate swung open and the detachment of guards headed through. Irileth threw a look over her shoulder, making sure the two followed after them.

Casil took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly for a moment before she let the fire ignite in her hands again. She glanced at Sterlas. Well, this was going to be interesting. 

 

The Western Watchtower was a disaster. Half of the tower had been knocked out, but to the surprise of everyone involved the tower wasn’t on fire. Giant crystals of ice sprouted out of the sides of the tower where it had been hit, and frost hung heavily in the air. The group crouched down behind a boulder some ways down the path from the tower, surveying it.

Irileth turned to look at Casil and Sterlas. “Didn’t the dragon you see set Helgen  _ on fire? _ ” she asked, fire dancing off of her red eyes.

Casil frowned, looking over the iced over tower before nodding.

“I don’t think this is the same dragon then,” Sterlas muttered, scratching his beard. 

“Not the same dragon…?” One of the guards asked. 

“Like I feared. There’s more than one,” Irileth muttered. She gripped her sword, looking the tower over. “One dragon or one hundred, we are here to protect Whiterun. Let’s go, men.” she said, standing before hurrying towards the tower.

Casil looked to Sterlas again. He drew a sword. “Rusty as hell with this but this will have to do for now,” he grumbled. Like hell he was turning into a werewolf if he could avoid it. He didn’t want to become a target as well. Sterlas looked to Casil, before giving her tuft of hair a ruffle. “Let’s go kill a dragon, Casil,” He said, flashing discolored teeth in an attempt to hide the fact that he was ready to pick her up and run in the opposite direction.

Casil nodded, giving him a steeled look before she followed after the rest.

Irileth and the guards had spread out around the tower, moving with caution until another guard ran out. 

“He’s still here!” The guard cried, staggering out of the building. “The thing grabbed Geilmar and Brarknir when they tried to run. It’s got to be lurking around here somewhere-”

The dragon did not give him time to finish. Nobody had seen it coming under the cover of darkness, and without the auroras that sometimes lit up the sky the moons were not enough that night to alert them in time. 

The party was met with a howling blast of ice as the dragon took a steep dive down, blitzing the ground and the front of the tower with a thick layer of frigid cold. It stooped down low enough to blow a few of the guards over with a gust of wind that followed it, before it took off into the sky again with a mighty roar. Sterlas readied his sword, moving to get cover with Casil behind some of the rubble of a previous tower. The two tried to spot the dragon in the darkness, and as it turned Casil made out the gleam of white scales in the darkness. She gripped her hands into stiff, rigid claws as fire built up in each one. The dragon circled around the tower, before it returned for another blitz. Casil stood up from her cover, skillfully throwing the fireballs at the beast as it dove down low again. One missed completely, and the other only skimmed the beast’s wings. It laid a trail of ice down again, before flying into the sky again. Arrows flew from the guards armed with bows, desperately trying to hit the creature. 

A throaty laugh resounded from the dragon, as he made a much sharper turn this time, diving back down again. Casil and Sterlas threw themselves out of the way as the dragon came to land with an earth shuddering thud near the ruins they had been taking cover behind. The dragon raised his head, before letting out a stream of freezing air. Sterlas took the opportunity to jump to his feet, rushing over before swinging at the dragon with his sword. The blade cut into its wing, but not deeply. The dragon’s head snapped to Sterlas, and with little effort it launched the redguard with a flick of its wing. The man had hardly landed when a stream of icy geysers suddenly burst up from the ground.

“ _ Thuri du hin sil ko Sovengarde _ !” The dragon roared, before taking off to the sky with the beat of powerful wings. 

Casil didn’t have time to worry about Sterlas. Electricity hopped around the dragon for a brief moment, before a hail of blizzard-like wind and ice shards rained down at frightening speeds towards Casil and the guards. Casil grimaced and dove out of the way from the worst of the blast. The permafrost bit at her skin and made it difficult to get up, but she tried to ignore it and melt it off with the fires in her hand. The dragon circled and landed onto the what remained of the top of the tower, the force of its landing causing some of the stones to crumbled down.

“ _ Zu’u Mirmulnir! Krif krin. Pruzah _ !” The dragon howled, before breathing down another stream of ice. 

Casil shivered violently, but she built up a fireball in her hands and sent it at the target. The fireball collided with Mirmulnir’s face, causing his aim to suddenly skew off to the side. The dragon let out a low rumble, turning his attention to Casil. Another fireball made contact with his face, and the beast shook the cinders away from its face before chuckling. He took to the sky again, electricity jolting around him once more.

Casil looked for cover, and dove behind a block of stone. The sound of ice crashing against the rock and the ground around her was deafening. The ground shook from the force of the impact, but once it had faced Casil wasted no time in standing up and trying to find her target again.

The battlefield was a field of ice shards, freezing geysers, and fallen guards. She could make out Irileth and a few others still fighting, but Mirmulnir had dealt damage. The dragon was circling around again, firing another round of freezing cold blizzards at the tower and some of the remaining guards. Casil watched him carefully, before hurling a fireball. The trajectory was correct, and the fire hit into the beast’s flank. It let out a pained grunt, before turning to head towards Casil.

“You are brave.  _ Bahlaan hokoron _ ,” the beast rumbled, pulling up in its dive to hover before her. Casil could make out the sound of the dragon inhaling in preparation for an attack, but a blur of fur managed to latch onto its face before it got a good aim. 

Sterlas had given up with the sword. The werewolf snarled, claws digging into the dragon’s face as ice collected on his tail from the icy breath that the dragon spewed. Sterlas tried to get a swipe at the dragon’s eye, but a powerful shake of the dragon’s head was enough to send him off. The dragon let out a grunt, ceasing its attack before taking to the sky again. Sterlas landed on the ground, wincing a bit before turning his attention to the sky.

“I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!” Mirmulnir rumbled, landing a few feet away. He turned to face the tower again, and was met with a powerful blast of fire to the face. He recoiled back, snarling. Sterlas bounded up to him as quickly as his limbs would carry him, throwing his full weight at the dragon. It staggered again, craning its neck to try to bite Sterlas. The werewolf’s claws slammed into his face instead, sending his face to the ground. Casil looked to the remaining guards and Irileth, before the group made a charge at the downed dragon. 

Mirmulnir’s tail whipped around to keep some of the guards back, snarling in anger as Sterlas latched onto the beast’s head. Arrows made their mark much easier now that he was down though, so as soon as the guards found he was too hard to get closed to they switched to the bow and arrow. The dragon violently shook his head, trying his hardest to get the werewolf off. A claw made it into his eye, and he let out a howl of pain. He tried to charge towards the tower, hoping to crush Sterlas against the stone. The werewolf skillfully moved to the dragon’s back, then off as the dragon’s skull slammed into the tower. It shook, and stones crumbled down into the mighty beast’s back. The dragon staggered, hissing before blindly breathing out a stream of ice. Casil winced at the blast, staggering backwards before she blindly threw a fireball. It connected, and another howl shook the plains. 

Casil could faintly make out the details of the dragon as it struggled to break free of the rubble pile. Its face and chest were riddled with arrows now, and blood seeped down its face from the gouges Sterlas had left in it. The werewolf was coming back for more, bounding across the fallen stone so he could get another grip on the monster’s head. Casil grit her teeth and charged as well, powering up a string of fire in her hand. The dragon’s remaining eye locked on Casil as the embers of her fire attack faded around him. 

“ _ Dovahkiin? _ ” the word hissed out of the beast’s mouth. “No!” It was the last roar the beast made, lurching back before its head fell against the stone with a resounding thud.

Casil furrowed her brow. What had-

There was a tugging sensation Casil had never felt before. Sterlas hopped off of the dragon as if he had touched a hot pan, fur bristling as the skin of the dragon suddenly began to glow and flake off. The guards gathered around the beast’s remains as more and more of it flaked away and the glowing grew. Suddenly a gold-purple wind shot out of the decaying frame and into Casil. It felt like the wind was knocked out of her for a moment, and she staggered back. Casil could not describe the sensation that followed. Her head spun, and her body tingled. When at last it ended, the dragon was nothing more than a skeleton.

Casil grabbed her chest, trying to catch her breath with wide eyes. Sterlas bounded over to her, but Casil raised a hand to tell him she was okay. The werewolf glanced back at the guards, before crouching down by Casil as support. She rested her arm on him, trying to compute what had just happened.

“You… you absorbed the dragon’s soul!”

The exclaimed caused Casil to look up and look for the guard that had said that, if nothing else to give them a weird look. 

“You must be dragonborn!”

“Dragonborn? You don’t really believe in those old myths, do you?”

“But the dragons are back, so surely!”

“What else would you call what she just did?”

Casil looked between the guards as they continued, before looking to Irileth. She was quiet, before the guards turned to her as well. 

The woman leaned on her sword, looking over the dragon’s remains. “All I know is that there was a dragon, and we  _ slaid  _ it. I know dragons can be killed, and that’s enough of a answer for me,” she said gruffly. “We should return back and report to the Jarl. Some of you will stay here to keep watch over the fort and salvage what you can,” Irileth said, before she picked her sword up and sheathed it. Wearily, she glanced at Sterlas. “Is that…”

Casil started to move to walk, but the wolf butted his head into her so she fell over. He caught her, before tossing her onto his back to trot down the path on all fours. It wasn’t comfortable, but he didn’t want Casil to walk there. Casil just nodded her head at Irileth though, giving Sterlas a reassuring pat to express that the werewolf was a friend. Irileth let out a long sigh, closing her eyes tightly for a moment before she shook her head and headed after them.

 

The sky rumbled with a earth-shattering sound. “ _ Dovahkiin!”  _ The sound echoed across Skyrim, shaking people from their beds and causing all to look up at the sky in confusion and fear. None were as afraid as Casil though. She had a sinking feeling that something had been set into motion she was not going to be able to stop, and she regretted her choice to help Whiterun. Her fingers tangled into the werewolf’s hair, and the dog glanced back at her. Casil kept her gaze on the sky, brow furrowed in worry. 

 

The doors to Dragonsreach opened up with some hesitation to Irileth, Casil and Sterlas. The maids who were sweeping near the doors stumbled back in surprise, holding their brooms up defensively as the werewolf passed. Casil could see two of the children she’d seen running around peering from the balcony above, eyes wide. The Jarl stiffened up and one of the guards put their hand on their weapon, but Irileth waved it down. 

“Is it dead?” Balgruuf asked, leaning forward.

‘If it wasn’t we wouldn’t be here talking to you,’ Casil signed, though the motion was lost on everyone paying attention.

“Yes, it is. The Watchtower will need serious repairs, but the dragon was slain.”

Sterlas stopped in front of the fire and the Jarl, letting Casil slide off his shoulders before he straightened out. With a sickening noise, Sterlas returned back to his human form. He shook his head, brushing his dreads back into place. “Let’s not make fighting those a habit,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Damn monsters hit harder than any troll i’ve ever seen.”

“What happened?” The Jarl asked, obviously excited to hear.

Casil’s hands went into motion, and Irileth let the small wood elf answer.

“It came out of the dark breathing ice. Spoke some things in draconic that she wants to try to translate later, no words she new. She thinks its name was Mal- mal…” Sterlas squinted at Casil. She shot him an exasperated look and slowed her motions. “Mirmulnir. Look Casil I don’t speak crazy dragon talk give me a break,” Sterlas huffed, punching her in the shoulder. She winced, but continued on. “The guards think’s she’s the dragonborn or something? When we killed the dragon, it dissolved and some sort of power jumped out of it into her.” 

That threw the hall into a fury of talking. Casil looked around at everyone uneasily. The steward argued against one of the warriors that it was nothing more than a myth, and the conversation went back and forth until Jarl Balgruuf finally grew tired of it.

“Enough. It doesn’t matter if they are or are not the dragonborn. If they are though, it would explain why the Greybeards called,” he said. 

Casil pursed her lips. The Greybears. She had heard of them. She did not like the implications of this either.

“You should answer their calling, if you truly believe it was for you. But, now, onto the matter of what we do know,” Jarl Balgruuf said, getting to his feet. “Without your help, I doubt we would have known about the dragon in time. And without your help, I doubt we would have been able to  _ kill  _ it,” he stepped down the stairs, before straightening his back. 

“I promote you Thanes of Whiterun, for your services,” he said with a nod of his head.

Casil and Sterlas blinked, before looking at each other.

“I beg your pardon?” Sterlas managed in surprise. 

“For your services to our city. It is a great honor to have you at our sides,” the Jarl said. He stepped back to a cabinet, unlocking it before pulling out a glistening ax. He handed it to Sterlas. 

“From my personal armory. Should you need anything, I am open ears,” he said, before returning to his throne. “If you would excuse me, I need to attend to other matters now.”

Casil and Sterlas stood there for a long, awkward moment, before the two shot each other stupid, childish grins of glee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -"Thuri du hin sil ko Sovengarde!" - My overlord will devour your souls in Sovngarde!  
> -"Zu’u Mirmulnir! Krif krin. Pruzah" -I am Mirmulnir! Fight courageously. Good!  
> -"Bahlaan hokoron" - Worthy enemy


	8. VIII. Something To Believe In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bless everyone who has read this already oh my god. I'm surprised anyone has.

The open fields outside of Whiterun made Casil feel free. The thundering hooves of horse pounded across the open range, trampling tundra cotton and lavender under his mighty hooves. Sterlas bounded beside them, leaping over rocks and bounding ahead with far greater speed than her horse could manage. The frigid late fall air blew around Casil, and sometimes she swore it felt like she was flying.

Clouds drifted lazily overhead, but the distant pillars of cloud forewarned of incoming storms. Casil’s horse bounded over a wall of stone, charging onwards through a cold stream and towards a band of mammoths and their giant shepard. Casil steered him away so as to not get too close, before deciding to turn him towards a nearby hill. The horse snorted, shaking his mane before he pounded up the slopes of the hill to the small stack of ruins that sat on top of them. Casil slowed him to a stop, looking out across the fields.

The openness was inviting. Herds of elk and deer bound across the fields, and Casil could even spot a few therium far out in the distance. Giants herded their mammoths at leisurely speeds, giving warning swings at any pack of wolves or sabercat that decided to wander too close. Sterlas climbed up after her, rabbit in his jaws. He sat down, looking up at the girl. A lot had been on her mind. The werewolf let out a low rumble in his throat, before he spat the rabbit out and shifted back into a human.

“Just goes on forever, huh?” He mused, moving to sit on a block of stone as he gazed out at the horizon with her.

Casil gave a nod, brushing a hand through her horses’ hair absent-mindedly.

Sterlas gave a pause for a moment before he spoke again. “Still wrapped up on that dragonborn thing?”

Casil nodded again, before sighing and swinging to get off of the horse. She tied the lead onto the branch of a dead tree that had tried to awkwardly sprout out from under some of the fallen stone, before she joined Sterlas on one of the fallen blocks. ‘Don’t like the idea.’

Sterlas flashed her a grin. “Why’s that? Too binding?”

Casil gave another nod. ‘Nobody’s stories ever go back to normal after big things, do you ever notice that? All those stories you get told as a kid. Big things happen and things get turned upside down forever.’

Sterlas let out a howling laughter. “Ahh, is my little necromancer afraid of being the hero of a great epic?”

Casil shot him a dirty look. ‘I don’t want to be the hero of _anything,_ big or small.’ She made a sort of grunt, before throwing herself back on the rock. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. Somebody else would have told them i’m sure.’

Sterlas shrugged, crossing his legs on the stone. He rested his big palms on his knees. “Well, can’t change that now,” he said with a shrug. “Ya gotta live with it.”

‘But what if I don’t want to?’

“You just gonna make a run for it?”

‘Maybe. I could.’

“But what if you _are_ the hero?”

Casil rolled her eyes, giving him a look. ‘Sure, yeah. Me. The hero. Of what. I killed a dragon. I’d so what that, but. Killing a dragon isn’t ultimate hero material. Legends told of people killing more than one ages ago. I just got first dibs on one of them.’

Sterlas pulled out his toothpick. “Suppose you _were_ the hero though.”

‘Just answered that, Sterlas.’ She furrowed her brow, before lifting her head to squint at him. ‘Why are _you_ so caught up in this?’

Sterlas shrugged, digging the pick into his gums to unlodge a piece of the rabbit. “Ya can’t say something _didn’t_ happen back there. I just have one of those feelings, you know?”

‘Obviously not.’

He shot her a look this time. “I felt you put my hair in a vicegrip back there when those ol’ Greybeards called for you. You have that same sinking feeling as me, don’t you deny it.”

Casil sighed and rested her head back down on the stone again. She made no motions for a few minutes, watching a hawk lazily drift on the breeze above. Sterlas watched her, before he turned and picked up the rabbit. The redguard unsheathed a knife and went to work skinning the catch, letting out a hum to himself.

“You seemed super excited to find that claw though,” Sterlas said with consideration, squinting at the holes he had punctured in the rabbit and wishing he had taken a bit more care nabbing it.

‘That’s different.’

Sterlas shrugged. “Well, maybe there’s lots of money at the end of this too. Money and fame. Think, bards would sing about ya for ages after this,” he offered.

‘This is assuming that this whole dragonborn thing is important or means something. I could also die. Brutally.’

“Casil, i’m going to be honest with ya here for a second.” Sterlas turned, setting down the gutted rabbit on the rock next to him. He leaned forward, hands on his knees again.

Casil turned to glanced at him, lips pursed.

“I’m not the kinda man who believes in a lot of that hero and prophecy bullshit, and let me tell you plenty a man thinks he’s some sort of mighty chosen one or that the Divines have some great plan laid out for him. But,” he raised a hand, holding up his index finger, “those men have not slain the first dragon spotted in Tamriel in millennium, and those men have not taken some sort of power or Nines know what from it, nor did the Greybeards call for them.” Sterlas picked up the rabbit again, moving to carefully skin it. “You make a living off of the backs of the dead. You of all people should know death is just lurking around every corner up here. So,” he looked up from his work at Casil again. “Would ya rather die in the den of a bear to be bones found by some adventurer months or years later, or be the victim of some bandit? Something average, something nameless and _boring?”_

Casil seemed to consider his words for a moment. ‘Fame’s overrated. I’d rather die quietly somewhere.’ She turned over so her back was to him.

Sterlas let out a hum of thought, and let her be until he had finished dressing the rabbit. The man got up, slinging the rabbit over a shoulder. “Come on. We should get going. The sun’s gonna go down before we get home at this rate.”

Casil sighed and got back up. Sterlas reached out and stopped her before she got back on her horse. The wood elf looked up at the larger man, face turned flat like a mask.

“Hey. I know you’re used to being a loner kid, but you got me. I know I’m not much, but…” he gave her a pat on the shoulder.

Casil glanced at the ground and nodded a bit, before she untied her horse and climbed back up onto him, heading him towards home.

 

Casil did not sleep well for the fourth night in a row. Every time she finally felt she was going to drift to sleep, something startled her back into the waking world. She huddled up in a heap of warm furs on top floor of her library, sipping warm milk as she stared out at the stars. She had brought a book out to read in hopes it would help calm her, but it hadn’t. She could make out the sparkling of her skeleton’s eyes in the pitch black shadows of the trees around the house. Her gaze turned up the sky. Auroras danced in the sky again, glimmering a fantastic shade of green that sometimes faded into pinks or blues. She half expected to see a dragon flying out there.

What was the worst that could happen? They had only seen two dragons. What if there weren’t that many?

Her mind wandered back to the first dragon. There was something different about that one. She had only seen two dragons, but the one she had slain looked vastly different to the one who had laid siege on Helgen. Maybe dragons just looked that different, but…

Casil pulled her knees up to her chest, settling back in the chair. She set the mug of milk onto the balcony edge, before grabbing the book she had brought up with her. Black bound, with a silver dragon inlaid on the front in metal. _Book of the Dragonborn._

Casil brushed her fingers over the cold insignia thoughtfully, before looking back out into the night. Sterlas was right about one thing. She had started this. She might as well keep going through with it. That was what she always had done, wasn’t it? It was why she was out there in Skyrim in the first place, and not Cyrodiil. Casil took a deep breath and exhaled, watching her warm breath curl out into the night.

That said, there was no way in the name of any of the Divines she was going to set out before _winter._


	9. IX. Wind

Winter had hit with a vengeance. Winds howled, blizzards blew in, and the snow fell. But the usual lingering fear of the outdoors had extended beyond just the cold like it usually had. A new beast was lurking out in the cold now. 

Casil did not venture outside much in the winter, but on one of her few trips to Falkreath to restock on supplies the news hit her like a hammer. 

The dragon problem had not just faded away. There was not just one or two dragons. There were  _ a lot  _ of them. Rumors and news of attacks drifted wherever Casil went, and with those rumors were the rumors of the  _ dragonborn.  _ Everyone had heard the Greybeard’s call, and rumors had spread out from Whiterun like wildfire during a dry summer. The worst of the winter weather seemed to have caused the initial wave of attacks to die down a little, but news continued to roll in of dragon sightings across all of Skyrim. Some people talked in hope the dragonborn would appear. Others scoffed at their companions for believing such myths. Casil waited each trip in hopes of hearing about the successful takedown of a dragon. They had done it, so surely others could.

But that was not the case. Dragons had been downed in few places, but none had  _ stayed  _ down. There had been no confirmed case of a dragon dying outside of the one taken down at the Western Watchtower. Dragons had fled, but nobody could say that any of them died.

 

Casil sat in front of the fireplace of her house, face rested against the palm of her hand and a glass of mead in the other hand as she lazily stared into the fire. 

Sterlas kicked a chair back before sitting down, pulling the bottle of mead Casil had opened to pour a glass of his own.

“So,” Sterlas said simply, taking a sip. “What’s the plan, kiddo? Dragon’s ain’t killin’ themselves.”

Casil let out a miserable sigh, taking a swig of her drink as well. ‘We head out first good day in spring. And pray to the Nine that the Greybeards were looking for someone else.’

Sterlas smirked. “Remember that thing about not making dragon slaying a habit?” 

Casil glared. ‘With luck I won’t ever have to touch one of those damn monsters again.’

Casil would have been mortified by the numbers later.

 

The first good day in spring came earlier then Casil had been expecting, and Sterlas had to talk her out of pushing it to the next nice day, fully aware she would just keep doing that.

No, she had to live to her word and the werewolf redguard was not letting her back out of it now.

The goal was to make Ivarstead in a few days, which was the closest actual town to the Greybeard’s domain: High Hrothgar. 7000 steps. Casil did not look forward to the climb and wondered if she should have waited until summer to make the climb. Sterlas reminded her she’d just keep backing out of it.

The trip up was a sobering reminder to Casil of what was going on. Casil and Sterlas had stopped counting the ruined houses that littered the countryside as they walked, and once as they passed the section of Eastmarch known for its hot springs they could see a dragon circling the mountain that lay in the center of the volcanic area.

 

Sterlas and Casil had set up a camp on the edge of Eastmarch and the Rift, hoping to make Ivarstead the next day. Snow still covered the ground, but both were thankful there were enough patches clear of it to set up a somewhat dry camp spot.

Casil had buried her face into the  _ Book of the Dragonborn  _ for the third night in a row the second camp had been set up.

Sterlas eyed her from his side of the fire while he stirred the stew that cooked in a iron pot that hung over the fire. Casil got tied up in books, which was nothing new, but this was a new level.

“Haven’t you finished that a dozen times already?” he asked, nodding his head towards the book.

Casil shifted from her spot, flipping through the book to a page. She tapped her finger on a section, before sliding the book over to Sterlas. He picked it up, eyeing what she had pointed out.

_ When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world _

_ When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped _

_ When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles _

_ When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls _

_ When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding _

_ The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn _

 

Sterlas looked up at Casil with raised brow.

‘The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn,’ Casil repeated. 

Sterlas grunted, not catching what Casil was so wrapped up in. He tossed it back to her. “What of it?”

Casil shrugged, running her fingers over the emblem on the front again. ‘Can’t stop thinking about it. Don’t know why. I just have a lot on my mind  I guess.’ Casil flopped over onto side, then her back.

“Well,” Sterlas sniffed the stew, “tomorrow we will make the damnable climb up to High Hrothgar, and those old men can tell you whatever you need to know. But, until then,” he rummaged in his bag for the bowls. He pulled them out, scooping soup into one before handing it over to Casil. “Eat up and get some good rest. Divines know you’ll need the energy to get your glass bones up that mountain,” he teased playfully. 

Casil glanced at him, before turning to sit up again. She took the bowl and a spoon from her own bag, setting it in her lap. ‘If I can’t make it you get to carry me,’ she replied, before blowing on the stew.

“Oh no, if you can’t walk it Divines know you ain’t no ‘Dragonborn’,” Sterlas warned, serving himself soup.

Casil feigned offence. ‘If I was a dragon I could just fly up,’ she insisted. 

Sterlas rolled his eyes with a grin. “Would be pretty useful, eh?”

Casil ate a spoonful of stew, before making a face and spitting it out. Sterlas raised a hand.

“You can’t even take the heat of the stew, you really can’t be a dragon.”

Casil grinned, making a motion Sterlas knew was laughing. ‘Ice dragon, thank you.’

“Mhm,” Sterlas hummed skeptically, but his smile remained. 


	10. X. What Would You Do

Sterlas rested his hands on his hips, staring up at the start of the 7,000 steps to their destination.

“So,” he turned to look at his companion, “ _wanna count them all?”_

Casil didn’t hesitate to throw a punch into the man’s side, which didn’t even cause him to as much as flinch. Sterlas let out a bellowing laugh. Casil rubbed her face sleepily, sighing as she pulled her hands down over her face.

‘Sun has hardly come up and we’ve already been walking for hours,’ Casil complained.

“Hey, hopefully we’ll be there before sundown then, huh?” Sterlas offered.

Casil sighed and closed her eyes for a long moment, before making a muffled grunt. ‘Fine, let’s go,’ she signed, before heading to the trail.

“One. Two. Three.”

Casil ignored him.

“Fourty seven, fourty eight, fourty nine.”

Casil shot him a glare.

“One hundred seventy one, one hundred seventy two-”

‘Shut up’

“Five hundred twenty four-”

‘I will feed you to the nearest bear. I know there’s more. We’ve already seen two.’

“Three thousand two hundred and-”

Sterlas was amazed her patience had held out to three thousand. Casil whirled and nailed him with a good fireball to the side, which at least managed to topple him over, burns aside. Despite the pain, Sterlas couldn’t help but cackle. “You didn’t say I _couldn’t_ count them!” he howled, covering his face when Casil heaved up an armful of snow to throw at him. She tried to tackle him, but a sudden bellow caused them both to stop in their tracks and look back down the path.

Ah. Frost Troll. Sterlas shoved Casil off of him, quickly hoping to his feet as the creature took a few strides towards them, angrily pounding its fists on the ground in a territorial display. Casil rolled to get to her feet, not hesitating to generate up fire. They held their ground for a moment, quickly looking for a way around the Troll. It lunged forward more, letting out a roar. Casil pursed her lips, before throwing a ball of fire at it. It missed over the monster’s shoulder. Casil bolted for some rocks as Sterlas moved to turn into a werewolf. His form shuddered and shifted, and he charged at the troll. They two met in a fury of claws, teeth and hair. Casil stumbled back to a pile of rocks, preparing fire again for the first opening in their mad scramble she could get. The troll managed to throw Sterlas off of itself, tossing the massive wolfman a good twenty feet. Sterlas snarled, getting back to his feet as he prepared to charge.

Casil took the chance to throw fire. The troll howled and turned to face her as the fire made contact with its broad, hairy back. She stepped back, ready to bolt as the troll made a motion to charge, but a sudden shadow caused it to stop. It went to turn, but it wasn’t in time.

The massive claws of a dragon crashed into the troll, digging deep into the monkey-like monster before slamming into the ground. Dust and snow kicked up in a blast from the impact of the magnificent green dragon’s landing. The troll gave a few struggles under the dragon, managing to shift enough weight to get the dragon to step off of it. Sterlas stared at the two monsters, before bolting over to Casil. He slammed into her pushing her onto his back before he bolted up the steps. The dragon craned his neck to watch the two flee, and the troll took advantage of that to shove the larger animal off of itself.

Casil gripped onto Sterlas’s back as tightly as she could as he ran as quickly as his legs could carry him up the steps. The sound of the dragon and troll fighting below echoed up the mountain side, and off and on Casil saw the dragon take to the skies. Each time she was afraid it was going to come after them, but the troll apparently had not given up yet. Ice breath again, it seemed. Had it been fire, Casil figured it would have had a much easier time. She wondered how strong that troll must have been to keep a dragon occupied for so long.

Unfortunately, the dragon was the stronger one. Sterlas and Casil zigzagged back and forth up the winding steps. She could tell the werewolf was getting tired; his running was slowing, and a few times he had slipped clumsily on a step. She wanted to tell him to slow down, but he wasn’t listening. But suddenly, he stopped.

The wind howled around them. Casil looked around, trying to find the source of Sterlas’s abrupt halt. It was hard to see with the curtains of snow and ice that was shifted by the wind. The woman bundled her cloak around her tighter, eyes scanning the path ahead of them, before looking to the path below them.

Sterlas let out a snarl when she saw it. The dragon was flying up the mountain at them, the wounds of its battle with the troll apparent but clearly not of enough importance to hinder the great monster. It inhaled, before spewing a breath of ice up the mountain at them.

Sterlas bolted, and Casil was thankful she had been ready for that or else she would have just fallen off. She gripped his fur tightly with one hand, readying fire in the other as Sterlas powered up the stairs. The dragon let out a roar, gaining altitude on them before a burst of ice erupted in front of the two. Sterlas slid to a halt, desperately trying to find a new way up the mountain. Casil took the pause as a chance to take a shot at the dragon, which whiffed fantastically. Sterlas shakily jumped up to a rock, and scrambled to make his way up the mountain the hard way until he could make it to the path again. The dragon’s shadow cast over them as it circled around, flying in front of the sun with a mighty bellow before strafing them with another stream of ice. Casil raised a hand, trying to cast a ward to block the brunt of the attack. Some of the ice parted, but still shards of cold pelted into the elf and the wolf. She winced, turning away to keep her face from getting hit too much. The attack was stronger than most mages she had fought, that was for sure. Sterlas managed to get himself back on the path, and continued his run up it.

The dragon followed. Casil continued to try to hit the beast, half of her attacks hitting while the other half flew off into the sky before fizzling away as they missed their target. She could tell the werewolf was getting exhausted. He breathed hard, pushing himself to keep moving. The dragon noticed as well. Suddenly, it stopped the blasts of ice and dived at them, claws extended as it made to grab them or knock them off the edge of the mountain. Sterlas was not fast enough to react, but the dragon’s attack hit high. Casil was knocked off of her companion’s back, but it wasn’t enough to pick her up or send her over the edge. She winced, tumbling across the path, down a set of stairs, and into a snowbank. Sterlas slid to a stop, quickly looking between the elf and the dragon. The winged beast was circling around, making as tight of a circle as it could in hopes of getting one of them on  the second swoop. Sterlas made a jump for it when the dragon did. He threw himself into the dragon’s face, grabbing ahold of its snout before taking a quick swipe at the dragon’s eye. His grip wasn’t enough to keep him on or land his mark when the dragon suddenly landed and threw his head forward, but Sterlas got a good gash in the monster’s face. Casil pushed herself out of the snow, wincing. The dragon’s tail barely missed knocking her right back over as the beast lunged after Sterlas, snapping its massive jaws at the werewolf as Sterlas backed up the path to draw it away from Casil. Every once in a while Sterlas got a swat in, but the dragon quickly grew tired of the game. It inhaled, and another cascade of ice flew out. The wolf let out a yelp of pain, and grew quiet.

Casil did not hesitate. She charged up the hill as quickly as she could, building fire between her hands. One attack after another, she assaulted the dragon with a fury of fire. The creature snarled, turning its attention to her.

“ _Mey_ ,” the dragon rumbled, before trying to use his wing to knock her over. Casil stumbled out of the way, backing up towards the top of the mountain again to get some ground on the beast. She hit it in the face, and it let out a grunt of frustration. Attention on the elf, it crawled after her, firing an assault of icy whirlwinds. Casil sheltered herself behind a boulder until the bulk of the assault ended, and continued her retreat up the mountain despite the lingering frost. The dragon lunged forward trying to bite her with the ground it had made up while she hid. Another blast of magical fire knocked its head back enough to miss the attack, and Casil managed to retreat into a grove of trees. The dragon grunted again in frustration, shoving its weight into her cover. The trees snapped like twigs under the dragon’s weight, but it was all the more effort and distraction. Casil used every opportunity to continue her attack on the dragon, though she could feel her magicka start to grow shallow.

Once Casil had made it back to the path, she turned and ran as hard as she could, turning only to throw a ball of fire when she thought she had made okay ground.

Burns covered the bulk of the dragon’s front now, and the dragon was _furious._ The creature crawled after her like a giant scaled bat, cutting straight up the mountain with giant strides. Casil knew she would not keep a gap between them, and slid to a stop. She scanned quickly for any sign of her companion. Down below, she could see the werewolf limping up after the steps. The dragon continued up, yellow eyes locked on her. She threw a look over her shoulder and noticed the very edge of what looked like a tower. Just a little ways further. Casil threw a fireball at the dragon, before she pushed the last of her stamina in a sprint. Just a little further.

She did not expect to get to the door, or for that to do anything, and she was right. The path leveled out into a decent flat section of stone that lay out before the great, towering front of High Hrothgar, and she made it halfway across this stretch before the dragon leveled itself out as well.

Casil bit the icy earth hard when the dragon unleashed a fury of ice from its mouth. Casil slid a good few feet along the ground, feeling the ice and stone rip at her face. The woman winced, exhaling in pain before she tried to turn to face her opponent as quickly as she could manage. The cold settled into her very bone, and she did not move fast enough. The furious dragon managed to meet her, head raised above her. It’s mouth opened up, ready to chomp down. Casil raised her hands, and burned every last drop of magika she retained in an unrelenting stream of fire. She expected the jaws to cut through the fire and for that to be that, but instead the dragon let out one last snarl, before collapsing onto its side. Casil lay there, feeling the blood on her cheek roll down her chin before slowly freezing as she watched the dragon’s body slowly begin to peel away. The tingling sensation returned to her chest, followed by the rush of energy that took her breath away for a moment. The light swirled around and into her, and when it was over the dragon that lay before her was reduced to nothing more than a skeleton. Casil could make out the shape of her wounded companion from through the dragon’s ribcage as he limped up the last stair. His gaze lingered on her, then moved to look behind her. Casil whirled her head around, half expecting another dragon to be there behind her.

 

The Greybeards stood on the steps above, looking down between her, and the remains of the dragon.

“So, you have arrived at last, Dragonborn.”


	11. XI. Louder Than Words

The inside of High Hrothgar was as uninviting as Casil had expected it to be. The woman wearily looked around the stone structure, reaching a hand to pick at the scab on her cheek until Sterlas swatted it. 

The two followed behind Arngeir, who Casil had made out to be the head of the operation. Three other monks followed behind the two, unsettlingly quiet.

Sterlas made a quite hand motion to Casil, which fell a little flat thanks to the biting cold he had just been blasted with. Casil got the gist though.

Sterlas was as uncomfortable as her. She felt like she was being lead to the slaughter, and it made her antsy. 

“So,” Arngeir finally spoke, turning his head to look back at the two. “You decided to wait until spring to come, hm?”

Casil just nodded. The old man let out a hum, before looking ahead again. 

“I suppose many would find it unwise to travel the steps in winter,” he mused, before he finally came to a stop in an large, empty section of the building. He took his place at the point of a large inset stone diamond in the middle of the floor, while the other three took the other points. Sterlas and Casil glanced at each other. 

Awkward silence fell on the room again, and Casil shifted to one of the sides. She didn’t like to be in the center of four people like that. Sterlas rather happily joined her. All the Greybeards stared at Casil expectantly, which made her even more uncomfortable. 

“Now, it is clear you are a Dragonborn. We have seen that you can absorb the souls of slain dragons. Though, we have yet to hear your Thu’um. Come, let us taste your Voice.”

Casil paused, looking between the Greybeards with a confused look on her face.

Arngeir frowned, before shaking his head. “Well, I suppose I was expecting you to have figured that out on your own. No matter. Your Thu’um is your Voice, your Words of Power. Each shout is made up of three words of power. I feel as though you might already know one of them.  _ Fus.  _ Force. Your dragonblood gives you the inherent ability to use these words into a shout, like the dragons do. It should come to you, naturally.”

Silence fell again. Casil felt her heart sink into her stomach. Sterlas could see the color drain out of her face, but the mousey woman still managed to step into the middle of the diamond. One hand tightly clasped on her arm, she looked between the people looking expectantly at her.  She took a deep breath.  _ Fus.  _ Yes. She could feel the power there, in a way she couldn’t explain. Casil closed her eyes, pulling on what she felt there. Her mouth opened. She formed the word with her mouth, forcing the air up through her chest.

And a weak, wheezing noise exited her mouth. No one said a worth. Casil’s nails dug into her arm.

No. It couldn’t be happening. She  _ felt  _ the power. She  _ absorbed  _ the soul! It hadn’t gone to Sterlas. There was no other explanation; the Greybeards even said she was one! Her eyes stared at the ground widely, cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. 

“Give it another try,” Arngeir said softly, but she could hear the worry behind his voice.

Casil tried to control her breathing. She took a deep breath, digging deep into the power she felt lingering inside of her.  _ Fus.  _ Force. The energy to push things. The ability to change, bend things forward.

It was more of a cough then anything. She trembled, starting to feel the tears well in her eyes.

She had come all the way up there to stand before the Greybeards, for this. A hand reached up to her throat, before she whirled to look at Sterlas.

Arngeir looked to the other Greybeards, then back to Casil. 

“Is something wrong, dragonborn?” He asked with concern. “Where is your Voice?”

Sterlas cleared his throat, shifting as Casil just looked down at the floor. “If I may speak,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. 

“I believe the dragonborn can speak for herself-”

“That’s the thing,” Sterlas interrupted. “She’s, erhurm. She a mute.”

Casil threw up, before bursting into a choked sob as she keeled over her vomit. Sterlas rushed to her side, helping her stand and move to somewhere to sit.

The Greybeards collected together again, and hushed whispers were exchanged between them.

Sterlas sat between them and the girl. Casil shoved her hands over her eyes, hunching over. She was humiliated. She was angry. She felt a gouge to her pride. The dragonborn used their Voice and shouts, and here she was sure that the damage to her voice box would not actually prove a issue. Of course it would. What else did she think the word  _ voice  _ and  _ shout  _ meant? Her teeth gritted. She was angrier at herself than anything. Foolish. She was foolish.

Sterlas watched the Greybeards cooly, before he finally broke the silence. “So what if she can’t use some fancy shouting? She’s a perfectly adept mage. Who can kill a dragon,” he stated, giving Casil a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Arngeir looked at his fellow monks, before stepping forward again. “That may be true, but without the Voice she lacks the power to use-”

“So what?” Sterlas interrupted. 

Arngeir frowned. “We meditate on the  _ Words of Power.  _ As is the way of the Dragonborn. If she cannot use them...” he glanced to the small wood elf. “It is a matter which will require much discussion and meditation. Until then, i’m afraid there is little we have to offer for her.”

With that, the Greybeards turned away like a flock of pigeons, leaving into the recess of High Hrothgar as mysteriously as they had appeared. 

Sterlas turned to to speak to Casil, but she stood up abruptly and strode towards the door they had come in through. Sterlas sighed, getting up. He grabbed her wrist before she could get too far. 

“It’s too late to head down now Casil,” he said sternly. Casil tried to wrestle her wrist away from him, but he held tight. She let out a defeated sigh, hanging her head. 

The werewolf exhaled softly, before reaching to give the small woman a tight hug. The motion surprised her, and she stood there stiffly like a corpse.

“Hey kid. You didn’t know. Don’t you go blaming yourself, alright?” He said, giving her a pat on the head before he let her go. Casil didn’t look up to meet his eyes, but just sniffled and nodded as her eyes drifted to some nondescript spot in the corner. Sterlas glanced around the room. “Let’s find a corner to settle down in. If those old men get mad, well they’ll just have to deal,” he said with a nod of his head. Sterlas took his bag and tossed it onto the ground, plopping down before he started to unpack. Casil reluctantly made her way over to sit by him, letting her own bag slide off her shoulder and onto the ground. Sterlas let out a hum. 

“Damnable dragon did a number to us, and our stuff,” he grunted eyeing the tears in the bag. He pulled through his things, muttering about a new dent in the pot along with a few missing articles of clothing and various supplies that had probably fallen out on his way up the hill. A big grin popped up on his face though, and he gave a hearty laugh.

Casil looked up from her own bag, managing to give him a raised eyebrow.

“Look what survived though,” he laughed, pulling a book out and lobbing it at Casil. She brought a arm up to block it, wincing and glancing down at it. The elf made a face of disgust and tried to fling the copy of  _ Lusty Argonian Maid  _ as far from her as she could without having to touch it.

“Hey, you had it on your shelf.  _ In your room, _ ” he insisted. 

‘I was out of shelf space in the library, you idiot,’ she signed in her usual furious manor.

“Oh, sure. Still doesn’t explain why you have it at all,” Sterlas taunted.

‘I am a proud collector of books,’ Casil said, lifting her chin up pridefully. 

“Sure, sure,” he extended a foot to pull the book back over. It was a start to an improvement in her mood, though he could still tell the topic weighed heavily on her. He couldn’t blame her and he did not expect it to wear off any time soon. It was a sharp blow to the woman.

 

Neither heard nor saw hide or hair of the Greybeards until early the next morning. The two quietly had been packing their gear for the trip back down the mountain when the Greybeards silently shuffled into the room. Sterlas noticed them first, and he elbowed the wood elf to get her attention. 

“A decision has been decided upon,” Arngeir spoke as soon as Casil had looked up from rolling her bed roll. “Though you may not be able to use your Thu’um, we have decided to give you our test. Fetch us the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, and there perhaps might be hope for you yet.”

Casil’s lips pursed together. She did not like how they phrased that. 

“And where would that be?” Sterlas asked, brow furrowed at the old men. 

“You may find the horn in Ustengrav,” Arngeir said, “in Hjaalmarch.”

Sterlas nodded, looking to Casil. She was looking back at her things, shuffling her belongings back into their bag as she avoided eye contact. The werewolf let out a sigh. “Alright then. We’ll bring that horn back,” he said with a sharp nod, determination written on his face. 

The Greybeards dispersed as quietly as they game. “Be warned, however,” Arngeir said as he walked away, “that without the Thu’um, you may not be able to reach the horn.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sterlas stated simply, giving Casil a pat on the back. He waited until all of the Greybeards had wandered out of the room, before turning to face his companion.

The sullen look had returned to her face, and her eyes were glued on the things she was packing into her bag. ‘You have a lot of faith in me for this,’ Casil signed, tightening the straps on the bag once she had it packed.

“You’re the dragonborn, Casil. Voice or not. If all this prophecy stuff is true, then you’re going to get through this just fine,” he said, nodding his head knowingly. 

Casil sighed, getting to her feet. She slung the bag over her shoulder, shoving a hand into the pocket of her robes before turning to walk towards the door. Sterlas frowned. She didn’t believe it. He wasn’t even sure if she believed she  _ was  _ the dragonborn. The werewolf didn’t fully know what being a dragonborn entailed beyond what little he caught from her and from the Greybeards, but the man was sure that if anyone could figure things out, it was the necromancer. He quickly packed his things, before following her outside.

Casil had waited on the steps, sitting down against the wall to give her some shelter from the blustering wind. Her gaze was locked on the skeleton of the dragon they killed the day before. Snow had piled up against its remains, but everything else remained the same. Sterlas stepped up behind her, putting a hand on his hip. 

“You ready to get off this gods forsaken mountain?” He asked. Casil glanced up at him with a tired, distant look before nodding her head and returning to her feet. 

They headed down the mountain in silence. The trip down was far easier then the trip up, and both were thankful they didn’t encounter another troll or dragon.

“You gonna try to get the horn?” Sterlas asked at one point, looking out over the vast expanses of Skyrim below. 

‘I don’t have a choice, do I?’ Casil signed.

“You could ignore it. Leave Skyrim maybe.”

‘What if i’m the only one?’

“Then you gotta do what you gotta do.”


	12. XII. Can't Hold Us

Hjaalmarch still felt like the dead of winter had it in its grasps. Snow still fell heavily, and the usually muddy ground crunched beneath their feet as they walked. Sterlas couldn’t complain; he’d rather the marshlands be frozen over then their usual swampy state. It made traveling to their destination much easier.

Casil took her time, pausing to collect the Death Bells that were already sprouting up through the frozen ground. Sterlas allowed her the slow pace. He could tell she was delaying their arrival, but she was still set on getting to Ustengrav. Sterlas didn’t have to ask her to know that a lot was going on in her head. The gears were spinning, thoughts rolling back and forth, worries festering, plans being written and re-written. Casil was trapped between her old life and an unknowable future tied to a destiny she understood little of. Sterlas felt a little guilty he couldn’t help. How could he though? This was a prophecy tied strongly to the hearts of the native Nords; a background and culture the redguard and bosmer had not been raised with, and had only experienced tangentially.

Casil shifted the basket of Death Bells and Fungal Swamp Pods under one arm so she could adjust her hood to keep out the snow.

“You doing alright back there?” Sterlas called from up ahead, throwing back a look at the small woman.

Casil waved a hand dismissively, wading through the snow towards him. Sterlas pulled a folded map out of his jacket, looking it over before surveying what little of the landscape he could see through the snowstorm.

“We should be getting close,” he said once she had caught up to him. Casil nodded, looking down at the snow. Sterlas raised a brow, before reaching out to pat her on the head. “We’ll get this figured out kiddo. Don’t you start doubting yourself now,” he said with a grin, pulling out a compass to check the direction they head been heading in. He nodded to himself, before motioning Casil to follow.

‘It’s hard not to,’ Casil signed after moving the basket to her back so she could have her hands free to talk. Sterlas let out a hum, moving a hand to shift the strap of his bag.

Casil hadn’t left the haze of disbelief and stiff, automatic responses to everything since that night at the watchtower. Sterlas swore he was looking at one of Casil’s skeletons and not her. Rigid, out of it, going through the motions. Like she was waiting for all of this to melt away so she could wake up from the dream and resume her normal life. She could have, too; the war was back on. Ulfric had made it out of Helgen alive, and the civil war between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks raged on as hot as ever despite the dragon menace. He could see Casil debating on running back to her normal life when news of the war drifted through the inns and taverns they had stayed at. Casil was an adaptable person, but her life so far hadn’t put her in the spotlight.

Casil was a class A necromancer as far as that was concerned. She liked to hide out in the shadows, away from people. Her company was a swarm of undead thralls. Her mannerisms were curt and rude, shut off from the rest of the world by her own doing and choice. Suddenly she had been thrust into some sort of prophecy and place of power from the way civilians all over Skyrim had been buzzing about, and it made her uncomfortable. It was like taking a horker and expecting it to survive in the desert. That was not what she was made to do. Maybe she still was walking towards an oasis that resembled what she was comfortable with.

Ustengrav looked like any other ruin in the area, and Sterlas had to take a trip around the surrounding area twice to confirm their location before he let Casil settle down and make camp. Others had been there recently, based on the bedrolls that had been left under small makeshift wood shelters and the pot that still hung over the logs of an extinguished fire. What had happened to them was beyond him, but Casil seemed to think it was other necromancers. Sterlas suggested setting up camp inside after they had cleared out some of the rooms. He wasn’t a fan of camping outside in the marsh anyways.

Sure enough, Casil had been correct. The first few rooms of the ruins were a battleground between a small group of necromancers and bandits, a fight Casil and Sterlas happily waited out until both parties had shrunken down to a more manageable size.

Casil moved the bodies towards the entry, dumping a few buckets of snow on them in hopes of slowing the process of decay so it wouldn’t reek up the ruins. She had no idea how long they would have to be down there, but she wanted to play it safe.

 

The ruins did not start off interesting.

“What do they Greybeards thing is so special about this place?” Sterlas grumbled, using the ax they had retrieved from Jarl Balgruuf to shove one of the draugr bodies out of the path. He hadn’t even felt the need to become a werewolf.

Casil shrugged, digging a handful of coins out of a burial jar before shoving them into her pocket. She pushed the next door open, and paused. Another cave…?

Casil gingerly stepped out, walking to the edge of the platform. A huge cave. The drop off the edge was at least a good one hundred feet. Pillars of stone and thin, questionable bridges spanned and spiraled down to the lower level, and then to a word wall even further down that was framed by a large waterfall. Some light filtered down from some set of holes far above in the ceiling that had been sealed over with snow and ice thanks to a grid of wood built to block the holes. Some plants even grew down below in the dirt, which was a shocker to Casil. A few braziers were lit below where more of the ruin had been built into the cave wall. Casil could make out a handful of skeletons that slowly made their rounds.

Sterlas peered over the edge as well. “Well, this is something,” he said, eyebrows raised. “I take back what I just said about not being special.”

Casil nodded in agreement, before turning to follow the pathway down. She was glad skeletons were brittle, or at least the ancient ones that lurked in ruins usually were. The ones right here were no different. Fire was enough to take them out from afar, which included the fire that suddenly burst forth from the ground as a skeleton on one of the ruin’s upper floors moved to get them.

“Fire traps. Wonderful,” Sterlas remarked as the singed remains of the skeleton toppled down the stairs, raising a boot to stop the skull when it reached him.

Casil’s attention had turned to the word wall below, and she was already taking the path around to reach it. He watched her, before eyeing the rest of the chambers. A few of the bridges that connected platforms on the supporting pillars hung precariously overhead, only just held by metal and wood from collapsing. It made him uneasy to have huge slabs of stone dangle like that overhead. On the other hand, there were full grown _trees_ down here, something he had never seen before. He followed Casil, admiring the decently sized fir trees that had sprouted up out of the dirt next to the waterfall and subsequent stream. Casil stood in front of the word wall, running her hand across the runes carved into its surface.

The words felt like they meant _more_ now. Casil pulled her journal out, quickly scribbling down the runes into it to refer back to later.

“Is that any help?” Sterlas asked, surveying the area.

Casil looked back at him, blinking. ‘What do you mean?’

Sterlas shrugged. “Does that tell us where the horn is? Or what you need to do?”

Casil shook her head. ‘I think it’s… a Word of Power. The meaning of one, or something. _Feim._ ’ She could feel the power behind the word, though she couldn’t speak it or understand fully what it _was._

Sterlas looked around, noting a path that lead up to another room they hadn’t been into yet. “I think we go this way,” he commented, looking back at her. “When you’re ready, of course.”

Casil tapped the charcoal against her lower lip, slowly turning it black as the charcoal rubbed off. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she tried to pull on the power of this word. Nothing came out though, and she felt her understanding of the word falter. Casil exhaled in frustration. No, things had not changed. She balled her fists up, and gave a weak, irritated slug at the wall before turning to sulk over to Sterlas.

Sterlas pat her on the back, causing her to jolt forward. “You don’t need that shout shit kid,” he said, before making his way up the next path. Casil watched him, sighing before following him.

 

Sterlas immediately regretted saying that. Three gates blocked the hall to the next room, and three stones lay spaced out in front of that, two on the left and one on the right.

Sterlas put his hands on his hips as Casil moved to investigate the stone. Once she passed in front of it, it lit up red and the first gate opened. Casil looked over at the gate, and stepped to the next rock. The second gate opened, but in a few seconds the glow of the rock behind her dimmed out and the first gate slammed close.

Casil backed up to the first one, taking a few breaths before she made a mad dash through the rocks. The first gate had closed before she made the last rock, and Casil just let out a grunt of frustration. She looked back at Sterlas, raising a hand in irritation.

This must have been what the Greybeards were talking about. He scratched his beard, before turning himself into a werewolf. The dog shook himself in preparation to run, scouting out the run. Casil positioned herself by the gate.

Sterlas stopped at the front again, before bolting. The gate first gate opened. The second gate opened. Sterlas pushed himself for the third, but he was not quite fast enough. The first gate slammed down and Sterlas tried to skid to a stop, but was moving too quickly with not enough traction. The werewolf slammed into the gate, letting out a grunt. Casil rubbed her face as the other two gates slammed closed. Sterlas winced, getting up and shaking himself off. Almost, but also not. He looked the gate over, before trotting back. He plopped himself down in front of the first rock. The gate opened for a few seconds, but slammed close again. So they couldn’t just stick things in front of them.

Casil tried to sneak under the first one, but it slammed down at a frighteningly fast speed. So they couldn’t do it one gate at a time either.

Casil and Sterlas sat themselves down in front of the gate, staring down at the series of gates in front of them.

She was not going to let a bunch of _gates_ beat her. Was this all she needed her voice for? To scream her way through three dumb pieces of metal? Casil narrowed her eyes, making a face as she pondered on how many spells she could strap to Sterlas that might  make him fast enough.  The Graybeards may have intended for her to solve this on her own, but she thought the notion that one person alone should be able to solve anything was stupid to her.

Casil hopped to her feet, motioning for Sterlas to follow. He glanced at her, before getting up and following her to the start of the rocks again. Casil focused before casting the best Courage she could cast. Illusion was not her strong point, but it was her best bet.

Feeling energy course through his body, Sterlas prepared himself before bolting towards the gates again as fast as he could.

The edge was just enough. Sterlas pounded through the gates, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the first one. To both of their relief, the gates slid back up when Sterlas reached the other side. Casil ran after him, a giddy grin on her face.

Hah! There wasn’t anything Casil’s magic and smarts couldn’t fix in replacement of a shout. The werewolf gave his companion a toothy grin, and Casil shoved his smelly face out of her way with a happy smile. She wasn’t sure what still awaited them, but finishing that task was reassuring to her. She walked forward, shoving the doors to the next room open.

Traps. The floor was nothing but fire spitting traps. Casil’s smile disappeared, and she rolled her eyes. Sterlas shrugged. It could be worse. He made a motion to the piles debris that had fallen in patches along the traps. Safe spots, he was sure. If the rubble wasn’t spewing fire, he doubted their weight would change that. Sterlas easily jumped to the first patch, turning to make sure Casil could make it. She could make it, and the first few, but the last jump was going to be too much for her. He could tell she didn’t think she could make it when she paced back and forth along the edge of the dirt like a caged animal.

Sterlas jumped back, picking her up unceremoniously before just tossing her at the next dirt pile. Casil winced, but gave him a thumbs up when she landed face first into the mix of rock and earth. Sterlas joined her again, ears perking up at the sound of a few large spiders dropping down onto the next platform.

Casil pushed herself up, signing to Sterlas that she’d wait on the current safe spot until the spiders died. Fire lit up in one of her hands, and she took a shot at one of the spiders. Sterlas took a jump to the platform, yelping in surprise when he landed on one of the traps. Casil paused, blinking. She put her fingers in her mouth, blowing a sharp whistle before the werewolf got too caught up in the fight. He circled around the spiders sharply, taking out one of their legs before he bounded back towards Casil with a questioning look. Casil pointed to the traps.

The spiders scurried after Sterlas, spitting balls of acid webbing at him. He winced as it landed, but he jumped back onto the platform. The spiders lingered at the edge, chittering as they looked for a way over to the companions.

Sterlas shot her a glance. Did she really think the spiders would follow onto the traps? Casil’s ward blocked the next shot of webbing, and she ducked back behind a fallen pillar. Sterlas lept to one of the further platforms in hopes Casil knew what she was doing.

The spiders seemed to hesitate, but the stupid animals scurried forward onto the fire. It was enough to take care both of them, but left a problem Casil hadn’t considered.

Sterlas growled at Casil, looking at the fire that hadn’t stopped shooting from the traps now that the spider’s corpses held down the pressure plates. Casil flipped him off, carefully stepping on a fallen rock before she made an awkward sprint and scramble to get onto the safe platform the spiders had dropped onto. She singed the ends of her robes, but she could care less. Sterlas lept over, before turning towards the gate to the next area.

Casil let out an exhale, brushing her clothing off and extinguishing the ends of her robe.

‘Didn’t need any shout for that,’ she signed, managing a grin as she walked to shove the next doors open.

Casil let out an exhale. A long bridge at water’s height extended between what looked like sunken dragon carvings, at the end of which was an altar of stone. ‘That has to be it-’ Casil signed. Sterlas gave a nod, watching the wood elf cautiously step forward. The second her foot hit the bridge, the earth rumbled. Casil stumbled backwards in surprise, tripping on her way back up the stairs. Sterlas’s hairs bristled and he growled, moving to protect Casil from what might have caused the shaking.

The carvings on either side of the water rose up, coming  to a stop in an arch above the bridge. The earth stopped its shaking as soon as each arch was completed, and the room fell quiet again sans the sound of water dripping from the statues. Casil and Sterlas didn’t move for a long moment, but when it was clear nothing else was going to happen by just sitting there, Casil pushed herself back up. She brushed her hands off on her robes, before taking a deep breath and proudly stepping forward. Water dripped down onto her as she walked down the bridge, and she ignored it. Her walk slowed though as she got closer to the end. Sterlas perked his ears up, curious why she was slowing down. But he saw it.

A carved stone hand was raised out of the alter, palm up to the ceiling and fingers curved enough to hold what both assumed would have been the horn. But instead, it was empty. A note remained there instead. Casil stopped at the base of the alter, staring at the note. She bit her lip, before stepping up and grabbing the note off. Slowly she unfolded it, eyes scanning over the words written on the sheet of paper.

 

_Dragonborn-_

_I need to speak with you urgently. Rent the attic room in the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I’ll meet you._

_\--A friend_

 

Casil read the note once, twice, three times, before finally looking up with a stare of absolute distaste. Sterlas shifted back to his human form, grunting before stretching.

“What is it?”

‘ _A IOU.’_

Sterlas blinked, furrowing his brow. Did he just understand that right…? “Come again?”

‘Somebody knew I’d be coming down here and took it. They want to talk to me,’ she signed with a hiss, intensely scouring the rock and everything around it just in case the horn just might still be there. It wasn’t of course. Casil crumpled the paper into a ball and lobbed it at the wall in irritation. ‘I can’t believe it. We made it down here without the help of the voice and some random bastard took the horn already.’

Sterlas pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s just go get the horn back then. They gave us a location, and if they wanted us dead I wouldn’t think _Riverwood_ would be the place they’d pick to kill us at,” Sterlas said.

Casil shot him a glance. ‘Why would people even want me dead? Do people want dragons or something?’

Sterlas gave an exaggerated shrug. “Hey, I don’t know. You got to remember that people used to worship the dragons up here, so.”

He had a point. Casil sighed, running a hand through her hair. She shook her head, looking around the room. ‘Can’t believe it,’ she signed again. She whirled around and took a kick at the altar out of spite, but winced and grabbed her foot after it made contact. Mistake.

Sterlas rolled his eyes. “Don’t go hurtin’ yourself now kid. Let’s get going. Some schmucks shouldn’t be hard for you and I, eh?” he said, heading towards the gate that blocked a staircase that Casil assumed lead to a hidden door to get back out.

Casil limped after him, cursing to herself for trying to kick a solid rock. She picked up the crumpled ball of paper, before giving the altar one last look. She’d get that horn, and she’d prove those boring old men she was just fine without the stupid voice.


	13. XII. Begin Again

Despite Jarl Balgruuf’s fear in the fall, the sleepy town of Riverwood had yet to be attacked by dragons. The guard count was still higher than they normally were, which was a smart plan in Casil’s opinion. They were lucky to have made it this far so untouched from the sounds of it.

The sun was already dipping below the horizon when Sterlas and Casil made it into the small village. People scurried about their end of the day tasks, and a handful of the men who worked the mill were heading over into the inn. Sterlas carefully stepped over a chicken as it darted through the street, glancing over at Casil.

‘Makes you wonder who we’re meeting here,’ he signed to her. She nodded in agreement, looking at the buildings. The town lay largely along one long road, with only a few buildings scattered out beyond that. It was not a huge place, but Casil supposed it was quaint enough. Out of the way, seemed to make most of its living on the river that ran beside it with the mill. The two walked into the inn, squeezing their way in pass the crowd of individuals enjoying their time off from work. 

A woman approached, blond hair pulled back into braids. “Greetings. How may I help you?” She said, giving Sterlas and Casil a sweet smile. 

Casil signed, though Sterlas knew what she was going to say anyways. “We would like to rent the attic room please.”

The woman blinked, glancing between the two strangers. Her smile faltered for a brief moment, before she motioned for them to follow. “Well, i’m afraid we don’t have an attic room, but hopefully this room here will suit you just fine,” she said, stepping into a two bed room. Casil and Sterlas nodded and stepped in, and before either could ask any questions the woman dropped her voice into a whisper. “Meet me in my room in a few hours,” she said, before hurrying back out to the floor of the inn.

Casil and Sterlas exchanged looks.

‘There’s no way the horn was stolen by a waitress.’

Sterlas gave her a shrug, setting his bag down before flopping back on the bed. Casil got up and pulled the door almost closed, keeping it open just a crack to see out. She mimicked Sterlas on her own bed, stretching. 

“Just got to get it back from her and we’re good, kid. Imagine the look on those Greybeard’s face when you walk back with that,” he flashed his rotting teeth.

Casil stared at the ceiling, idly playing with a ribbon on her robe. ‘I don’t like that someone knew we’d be going there. I don’t,’ she signed.

Sterlas’s smile faded, and he moved to look at the ceiling as well. “Eh. I wouldn’t worry too much about it Casil.” 

Casil reached into her bag, rummaging around for her journal. She opened it up and flipped to her copy of the word wall at Ustengrav. She thumbed back to previous pages, looking over the words with a hard, cold stare.

Sterlas sat up. “I’m going to go get a drink. Don’t drown ya self in your books,” he teased, grabbing his coin pouch before heading out to grab a seat. Casil glanced to watch him leave the room, before she returned to her study.

The werewolf found a quiet table not far from their room and sat himself down. The blond haired lady from before came over. “What can I get you?” She asked, smile on her face.

“Steak and a bottle of your best ale, if ya would,” Sterlas said, giving her a smile back. 

“Nothing for your quiet friend?” She questioned.

“If she’s hungry, she’ll come get something,” he replied, digging into the coin purse for his pay. 

The woman looked him over, before giving a curt nod. “I’ll be back with your food and drink then,” she said, turning back and disappearing into the crowd of people.

Sterlas watched her go, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the table and scratch his beard. He wondered what they had gotten themselves into.

 

A few hours passed when Casil and Sterlas finally headed to the woman’s room. Everyone who wasn’t spending the night had left, which only left one other individual in the small inn beyond Casil and Sterlas. Sterlas knocked on the door to her room, and in an instant she had opened it up. She glanced out of it, before motioning for them to come in.

Casil tensed when she shut the door behind them.

“So,” she said, looking between the two. “You got my note, I take it?”

Casil reached into her bag and pulled it out, tossing the crumpled ball at her. The woman caught it, checking it before nodding. Her attention turned to Sterlas. 

“I didn’t expect the dragonborn to be a redguard,” she mused.

Sterlas blinked, before taking a step back and framing Casil with his arms. “Well that’s because she’s not. She’s actually a bosmer,” he said. Oh Divines she mistook  _ him  _ for the dragonborn.

Casil folded her arms tightly, narrowing her glowing eyes at the woman before she raised her hands and made a fury of hand motions.

The blond looked between the two in confusion and embarrassment. “Oh… I had.. Excuse me,” she bowed her head. She gave Casil a confused look, then looked to Sterlas for some sort of explanation or help.

“She wants to know who you are, why you want her, and where the horn is,” Sterlas explained.

The woman blinked. “Can she not….”

Casil shot a glare.

The woman straightened herself out, sighing before turning towards a wardrobe against the wall. She reached around behind it and pulled a switch, causing the wardrobe to swing open. “I suppose I owe you an explanation. “My name is Delphine. I am one of the of the last of the Blades. Do you know of them?” she asked, moving down the stairs after motioning for them to follow.

Casil peered down the staircase, before following. 

“Yeah. Just the basics,” Sterlas answered, which went for both him and Casil. They knew of the Blades, but about the same vague level that they knew of the dragonborn. 

“We have been the guards of the Emperors for many centuries, and slayers of dragons with the dragonborn,” Delphine said. The room below had a few wardrobes and chests, and a table in the center with a map riddled with pins and markings. “I am one of the last. As you know, dragons have not been seen in Tamriel for millennium. And as you know, now they are coming back.” She moved to a chest, pulling a key out from a string around her neck to unlock it. 

Casil folded her arms, lingering near the stairs with Sterlas. She made a motion for Delphine to get to the point.

Delphine pulled the horn out of the chest. “You are the only dragonborn that has shown up, and perhaps the only dragonborn there will be. You are a crucial part in curbing this dragon invasion.” She walked over to the two, before holding the horn out to Casil. 

Casil snatched it from her, quickly stuffing it in her bag with narrowed eyes.

‘Can everyone else not deal with the dragons?’ Casil signed, Sterlas translating.

Delphine shook her head, walking over to the table. “No. Dragons can’t be killed permanently unless their souls are devoured, which only dragonborn can do.”

It was news Casil didn’t want to hear. She bit her lower lip, before walking over to the table as well.

‘Why are they coming back?’

“We think it’s the Thalmor,” she said, resting her hands on the table before looking the map over.

‘How could it be the Thalmor?’ Casil’s brow knitted together.

“Well, that’s what we’re hoping to find out. Dragon’s haven’t just been coming back either, they’re being  _ revived.  _ Which is another reason I called you here.” Delphine tapped a thin finger on a pin on the map. “We believe we have located the burial place of a dragon, and I wish to have you join me there to see what is going on. That, and I want to see if you really  _ can  _ absorb a dragon’s soul,” she said, staring at Casil with cold grey-blue eyes.

Casil did not  like this woman. ‘And if I decided I don’t want to go with you or help you?’

Delphine pursed her lips. “We have been loyal to the dragonborn for centuries. It is our duty to serve and protect you,” she said simply, straightening her back. “And without you, the world will be left to the mercy of the dragons.”

Sterlas gritted his teeth in anticipation of what Casil might say next. The wood elf and the breton stared each other down, before Casil tilted her chin up pridefully. 

‘Where do you want to go?’

Sterlas let out a slight exhale of relief. Whatever this journey was going to be, Sterlas didn’t want to take it alone with no allies, and he wasn’t sure if the Greybeards were going to be any help since Casil couldn’t shout. He wondered if Delphine realized that or not, or if it mattered at all to her.

“Kynesgrove. I’ve heard rumors that there’s a dragon mound there, somewhere off in the woods,” Delphine said.

‘How do you know that one is going to come back to life? I’m not up for waiting there for weeks.’

“My research,” Delphine said, motioning to the map and a heap of papers that covered a nearby dresser, “lead me to believe this will be the next one, meaning  _ soon.  _ So I would like to head out before the break of dawn,” she said sternly, looking to Casil for her answer.

Casil paused, before nodding her head. ‘Fine. First thing in the morning.’

Delphine seemed to let out a sigh of relief. “Good then. I will meet you outside in the morning,” she said, before waving her hand. “You should get some rest. We will be pushing hard tomorrow to reach Kynsegrove by tomorrow evening.”

Casil gave a nod, before turning to move up the stairs. Sterlas threw a glance at Delphine before following Casil up the stairs and back into their room. 

Casil said nothing more as the two rolled into bed. Sterlas couldn’t help but wondering what was going through the elf’s head.


	14. XIV. Superheros

The three set out before the sun had risen, and before most people in the town had even gotten up. They traveled in silence for several hours, moving at a decently swift speed towards their destination.

To Sterlas’s surprise, Casil was the first to talk. ‘Who else knows i’m the dragonborn?’

Delphine shrugged. “I don’t know. Beyond the Greybeards and myself, I don’t believe anyone is aware of who you are. Importantly, I don’t think the Thalmor are aware yet either.”

Silence fell on them once again, until Delphine spoke up first this time. “I hope you’re dragonborn, I really do. I suppose we'll find out soon enough,” she said, looking at Casil.

Casil didn’t return the glance. She was afraid of what Delphine would have to say when she found out that she couldn’t shout. Casil was trying hard to pretend that she didn’t care that she couldn’t use the Voice, but it gnawed away at the back of her mind. And she didn’t like the look and tone everyone had been taking with her upon finding out that she was a dragonborn with no shout.

The silence continued, only broken by small talk every once in awhile. The tension was thick between the three, specifically between Casil and Delphine. Sterlas wondered idly what Delphine had been expecting the dragonborn would be like.

They reached Kynesgrove a bit past dark. The group settled down in the inn for the night, turning in early after questioning the innkeeper about the location of the dragon mound.

Casil didn’t sleep that night.

 

They left before dawn again. Clouds had rolled in, but rain nor snow had begun to fall.

“That dragon better not have come back to alive already,” Delphine muttered as they group pushed up the hill, hand on the hilt of her sword.

A roar echoed out through the sky, and Casil gave a shiver.

Delphine cursed and picked up her pace, before ducking behind a rock. Casil and Sterlas joined her, before peering out from behind their cover.

The giant black dragon they had seen at Helgen hovered over the burial mound, great wings beating to keep himself in the air. A great rumble emitted from the dragon, before he spoke.

“ _Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse!_ _Slen Tiid Vo!”_

The earth trembled, and the earth on the top of the burial mound suddenly shifted. Out of the ground erupted a full dragon skeleton, who let out a eerie roar. Skin began to reform on the beast as it shook the dirt off its back, craning its neck towards the other dragon.

“ _Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik_ _?”_ The new dragon spoke as more of its body collected onto it.

“ _Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir_ _.”_

Casil shifted, shuffling for her journal to try to write out what was being said. Suddenly, the dragon turned its head towards the rock. Delphine and Sterlas ducked down, inhaling sharply.

A low chuckle rumbled in the black dragon’s chest. “ _Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu’u koraav nid nol dov do hi._ _”_ He growled, eyes locked on Casil through the stone.

Casil gritted her teeth, before standing up. Sterlas tried to grab her to stop, but she swatted his hand aside. She stepped out from behind the boulder, starring the great dragon down. She did not understand much of what he had said, but she couldn’t have responded if she wanted to.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed. “You do not even know our tongue, do you?” The beast let out a snort. “Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of the Dovah,” he growled.

Casil wished she could scream at the dragon, but she could do nothing but remain silent. Fire burned into her hand, and the dragon laughed.

“Sahloknir, _krii daar joorre_ _,”_ the dragon commanded, before taking off with the beat of his wings. Casil threw a ball of fire at him angrily, jerking forward to try to get a better shot. The fire connected, but rolled harmlessly off the pitch black scales of the dragon.

“Get out of the way Casil!” Sterlas shouted, rushing out from behind the rock with axe drawn. Casil whirled, almost forgetting the other dragon that lingered there.

“I am Sahloknir!” Roared the dragon. “Hear my Voice, and despair!” A blast of fire emitted from his mouth, its power only dulled slightly by the ward Casil threw up.

Sterlas cursed, rushing over to the dragon and taking a swing at its wing before it could take off. The attack landed, causing the dragon to stop its attack to turn to Sterlas. Delphine rushed up beside the man, swinging her sword at the dragon. The blade cut into his face, and he snarled before snapping at the two.

Casil winced in pain. She had turned away, but it hadn’t prevented the side of her face

from getting hit with the fire. She weakly rolled to put out the last of the fire, struggling to get up without pushing on any of the burns. Her own fire burned in her hands, and she threw it at the dragon.

Sahloknir slammed his head into Delphine, sending her tumbling to the ground before he angrily turned to look at Casil. “I see that mortals have become arrogant while I slept,” the dragon hissed, raising his neck before breathing another stream of fire at Casil. She stumbled out of the way, some of the attack rolling off another ward before she returned with her own stream of fire.

Casil’s ward did not hold, but she expected it. She managed to tumble out of the way, with a grunt of pain, of the remaining fire when the ward broke.

“I do not fear you, Dovahkiin!” The dragon roared, lashing his tail around to try to knock her down the moment she got up. Casil dropped to the ground, letting it narrowly whip over her head.

Sterlas took advantage of the distraction to take another swing at the dragon’s wing. It roared in pain as the axe cleaved through one of the fingers, and its head whipped back around to look at the dark skinned man. This time, a wave of ice trailed out of its mouth at Sterlas. He dodged out of the way, moving to use the beast’s wing to climb onto its back. Sahloknir tried to flap his wing to knock Sterlas, but the beast winced from the pain of a severed join. Delphine rushed and took a swing at the dragon’s neck. The blade cut through it, causing a gurgled sound to emit from the dragon’s throat and mouth. Blood oozed out, and it snarled with a spray of blood. Casil rushed close to unleash a volley of powerful, short ranged fire.

The three did not give Sahloknir a chance to speak again. The dragon had hardly made it out of his burial mound before he collapsed once more into the dirt, beginning to peel away and return to the skeleton he had just been.

Casil made her way over to Sterlas and Delphine, hand humming with restoration magic as she worked on healing her burns.

The dragon’s soul rushed into the stone-faced elf, and she looked to Delphine.

“You really are the Dragonborn,” Delphine said, out of breath. She put her hands on her knees, overlooking the dragon’s skeleton.

“Now what?” Sterlas asked, wiping some sweat off of his brow.

Delphine straightened herself out, brushing a loose strand of hair back. “We find out who is sending these dragons, or who controls that black one,” she said, eyes scanning the sky in case the other had decided to hang around. “We need to get into the Thalmor Embassy. I don’t have a plan now, but…” She sheathed her sword finally, “...I will send you a letter when I have.”

Casil wiped some dirt off of her outfit. ‘We need to return the horn anyways.’

Delphine eyed her, but nodded. “Go answer the call of them then. When I have plans, I will call for our meeting. Until then,” Delphine turned to study the dragon. “Be safe. We don’t need you dying on us now.”

Casil snorted. ‘You make it sound like I need to die for you at any point,’ she signed, more to herself than anyone else. Sterlas didn’t communicate the comment to Delphine. Instead, he gave a nod of his head and turned to walk back down the hill.

“So, back up those 7000 steps huh?” Sterlas asked, eyeing Casil.

Casil reached into her bag, pulling the horn out to examine it. ‘Don’t need no stupid voice,’ she signed back, holding the horn triumphantly over her head with a grin.

“That’s the spirit,” Sterlas laughed, ruffling her hair.

 

Arngeir’s surprise was very plainly apparent when Casil pushed her way through the doors, horn hung at her side. The other three Greybeards silently joined with Arngeir, watching the Dragonborn stride in with her companion. She pulled the horn off from where she had it hung, walking up to Arngeir before holding it out with a firm, determined look on her face.

The faint howling of the wind broke the silence, before Arngeir reached out and took the horn. He turned it in his hands, withered hands inspecting to make sure it was the real thing. He nodded after a few moments. He turned around to set the horn on a desk, before looking to his fellow monks.

Casil stared them down hard. There was no way they could turn her away now. There wasn’t.

Arngeir stepped back in front of her. “So. You may not be able to use your Thu’um, but it seems that you…” Arngeir looked the small elf over, nodding his head very slightly, “you are indeed the dovahkiin.”

The other Greybeards moved to the points of the diamond again, and Arngeir motioned for her to stand in the center.

“We had planned to teach you more words of the Unrelenting Force shout, and words of Whirlwind Sprint, but i’m unsure of how much those will really help you in your journey seeing as you can not use them.”

Casil tilted her chin up. ‘I do not need them.’

Sterlas gave Casil’s answer from the side of the room in a hushed tone.

Arngeir looked at the werewolf. “Perhaps. What all of this will mean, and how things will play out, I can not tell you. But, you have completed our task. So we shall acknowledge you as Dragonborn. Few can stand the voice of the Greybeards, but for you it should be no issue,” he said, folding his hands together under his robe.

Casil stood up straight, pride burning in her eyes.

“ _Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu’ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu’umu,, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naa suleyk do Shor, ahrk naaal suleyk do Atomrasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok_ _.”_

The stone trembled under the voices, but Casil held her ground and held strong. When at last they were done, they each gave a bow before dispersing. Arngeir stayed though, unmoving.

Casil watched the others go, before returning her gaze to him. The uncomfortable silence returned before she turned her back and walked towards the door. Arngeir watched, speaking only when she reached the door.

“We will call upon you, if you are needed. And if you need, we will be here,” he spoke. Casil didn’t slow down, pushing the door and stepping out. Sterlas did pause though, looking back at the old man. He gave a nod, glancing at the ground before he followed the dragonborn out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> - **"Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse!"** -Sahloknir, [your] soul [is] bound [to] me forever!  
>  - **"Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?"** -Alduin, my overlord! Has the time arrived to restore your ancient dominion?  
>  - **"Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir"** -Yes, Sahloknir, my champion ally  
> - **"Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu’u koraav nid nol dov do hi."** -So, you’re the dragonborn? I recognize no indication [of] dragon belonging to you.  
> - **"krii daar joorre"** -Kill this mortal  
> - **"Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu’ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu’umu,, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naa suleyk do Shor, ahrk naaal suleyk do Atomrasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok"** -Long has the Storm Crown Languished with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North. Hearken to it.


	15. XV. Strong Hands

The dragon hit the ground, tumbling before sliding through the earth, cutting a divot in the earth until it came to a stop. The beast let out one last pained breath, before it fell still. Skin began to flake up as Casil walked towards the felled dragon. Light poured out of the dragon and whirled into the elf, and once it had stopped she turned to her companions. Sterlas trotted up, shaking some frost from his fur. Behind him ran a dunmer, armored in ornate glass with two ebony swords at her sides.

“How many more dragons do you think there are?” she asked, pulling her helmet off to push her dark hair.

They had picked up Jenassa a few months prior. The dark elf had narrowly escaped being a victim of a hoard of Casil’s skeletons, which the woman had become more and more bold about using. Her previous contract had not been so fortunate, which Casil insisted they brought on themselves by attacking first. Sterlas had been surprised Casil was willing to have someone else travel around with her, and one that would _always_ be talking.

Casil shrugged, shoving the dragon’s skull over with a foot as she examined its remains. ‘Enough that this is still a problem,’ she signed.

Jenassa was still learning what Casil’s gestures meant, but she got the gist. Casil absent-mindedly tossed a few bones in Jenassa’s general direction as a indication she wanted to keep those. “Still trying to build one?” She asked, putting her hands on her hip as she tucked her helmet under one arm. Armor was not fun in the summer heat.

Casil nodded, tossing a broken bone to Sterlas. He snapped it up in his jaws. ‘Nothing else to do.’

Sterlas grunted, chewing on the bone. Casil glanced at him. ‘I’m just waiting for that letter. Maybe I won’t ever have to do anything again. Just make money on dragon bones. Still an economy for them. Make good armor,” she said, eyeing one of the bones before deciding it wasn’t good enough for her pet project.

Jenassa leaned over to pick up the bones Casil wanted , shoving them into a bag. “How long have you been waiting for that note?” She asked.

‘Few months,’ Casil replied, straightening herself out. ‘Could never come for all I care. I don’t _want_ to have to deal with the Thalmor.”

The dunmer couldn’t blame her for that. She finished packing the bag, before helping Casil with another bag for bones she planned to sell or craft into armor. Sterlas pushed himself up, moving to pick up the first bag of bones and scale. Casil let out a loud whistle. Her horse bounded over, slowing to a stop when it came close. He wearily eyed Sterlas, but let the werewolf get close enough to load the bag onto his back. The other bag joined it, and Casil reached out to take the horse’s lead.

‘Let’s get back to Whiterun,’ she signed, heading towards the road.

Sterlas stretched, dropping the bone before he turned back into a human. “What does that make?”

Casil pulled her journal out, flipping towards the back of the book. She made another tally into the book, which she reminded herself to reflect in notches on one of Milmulnir’s teeth she snagged sometime ago.

‘15.’

Sterlas pulled out his toothpick. “Remember when I said not to make this a habit?”

Casil threw him a look, but he could tell she meant it playfully.

Jenassa groaned. “I had no idea what I was getting into with you two,” she said.

‘I could fire you,’ Casil chided.

Janesse gave a low chuckle. “Then what would I do?”

Sterlas had been glad that Casil had started to come out of her shell, but it had come with some unfortunate side effects. Or perhaps it was a result of being the dragonborn. Casil had never been particularly nice, but she had stepped up a level since the dragon’s appearance. Man nor beast were free from her snappiness, and perhaps even _arrogance._ Sterlas couldn’t tell if the lack of a Voice made it better or worse. He’d seen what the dragons and draugr did with the Words of Power, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see what Casil would do with it if she could use it.

The three made their way through the gates of Whiterun after unloading their goods from the horse. Casil had tried her best to keep people from figuring out she was the dragonborn, but they were starting to suspect that a few people in Whiterun had figured it out. Casil just hoped that Delphine figured out whatever she had needed before the Thalmor pinned her down too.

The three hardly got through the gates when they were confronted by a pair of mask-wearing individuals. Casil had noticed them when they had entered Whiterun, but beyond the rather unnerving masks paid no mind to them. But they had noticed _her._ The two walked up, blocking Casil as she tried to get to the Warmaiden’s door.

Casil looked at them, steel look back on her face. Sterlas had noticed she was getting better at the look, and he eyed the two masked people as well. The masks weren’t of a sort Casil had seen before. She had battled a old dragon priest a month prior who wore a mask, but it did not look like this one. Their armor made her think of the priest’s, but it too wasn’t quite the same. The jagged teeth and tiny, broken looking eyes of the masks made her uneasy.

“You!” One snapped. “You’re the one they call Dragonborn?”

Casil furrowed her brow, the only change in her facade. Jenassa put a hand on one of her swords, teeth gritting uneasily. Casil glanced back to her companions, before looking back to the cultists.

‘What is it to you?’ She signed.

The Cultists glanced at each other. “The silent type. No matter. We know you are the False Dragonborn! You shall not stand in the way of the true Dragonborn’s return. He comes soon, and we shall offer him your heart! When Lord Miraak appears all shall bear witness. None shall stand to oppose him!”

Casil was jerked out of the way just in time for the Cultist to lunge at her with knife drawn. Jenassa had pulled her back, other arm pushing the sword into the chest of the first cultist. The other cultist didn’t get much chance to move either, because Adrianne had drawn her sword and cut them down before they could get their own weapon out.

The Warmaiden’s owner sheathed her sword once the two cultists were dead, giving Casil a concerned look. “You alright?” She asked.

Casil nodded, looking the cultists over. She crouched down, searching through their pockets. Yes, one had a note. She unfolded it, reading it over.

 

_Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search. Kill the False Dragonborn known as Casil before she reaches Solstheim. Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased._

 

Casil furrowed her brow, folding the note up quickly. She shoved it in into a pocket, quickly making a motion for Sterlas to hand over the bag of dragon bones she had gathered. ‘Just take it,’ she signed quickly, turning to head back out the gate. Sterlas blinked, looking at Casil in confusion. Jenassa, Sterlas and Adrianne exchanged confused looks, before Sterlas finally awkwardly handed over the bag.

“Uh. She wants you to just take it. Don’t worry about it alright-” Sterlas said, shoving the bag into the startled woman’s hands.

“What is going on-” she began.

“I don’t know. Just keep it down. Consider that payment for doing so,” Jenassa quickly interjected. Adrianne took a step forward to see where Casil had hurried off to, before nodding her head in worry.

“Not a word. Stay safe,” she said, dragging the bag inside. Jenassa narrowed her eyes at the few onlookers and gave a sharp nod to the guards, before following her other two companions.

Casil had already gotten on her horse.

“Casil, what is going on?” Sterlas asked, slowing from his run to catch up with her.

‘Not here,’ she signed simply, directing the horse towards the road.

Jenassa grumbled under her breath before pulling her own horse out of the stable, climbing on before following after. Sterlas followed on foot having a easy time keeping up with the horse’s slow trot.

 

“Casil, what is going on,” Sterlas asked once they were out in the wilds of Whiterun Hold. Casil reached into her bag, pulling the letter out and reading over it a few more times.

‘Someone knows i’m the dragonborn. And they _know my name,_ ’ she signed with shakey hands. ‘And there’s… they called me the False Dragonborn. Said there was a true Dragonborn. Miraak.’ Her brow furrowed.

“Is that a name you recognize?” Jenassa asked, pulling her horse up beside Casil’s so she could get a look at the letter.

Casil shook her head. ‘No. I don’t know who this, who they think they are, and how they know who I am.”

Jenassa hummed. “Solstheim. Unusual,” she mused. “Well, if they were the only ones sent they won’t be able to report back. We should keep low though,” she suggested.

Sterlas nodded in agreement. “If they wanna come after us again, we have the Greybeards and the Blades who could probably help us. Or the Jarl. He knows you’re the dragonborn as well. He could probably just demand those freaks are kept out of Whiterun.”

Casil handed the note to let Jenassa take a closer look at it, scanning the surroundings. Someone was running at them. Fire erupted in her hand, and she sharply pulled on her horse’s reins to turn him around to face the man who was making his way swiftly from Whiterun.

The man held up his hands, panting before slowing as he got closer. Casil lowered her hand when she realized it was a courier, letting the man approach to the horses. He pulled a letter out of his bag, panting until he put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Urgent letter. From a friend,” he panted. “Sorry for the alarm ma’am.”

Casil waved a hand in dismissal with a shake of her head, reaching into her pocket to toss the man a few coins. The courier thanked her, before making his way back to Whiterun at a much slower pace.

Jenassa and Sterlas looked at her, eyebrows raised as they waited for her to open the letter.

Casil let out a long sigh, before breaking the seal on the letter and unfolding it.

 

 _Plans have been made. Meet me in the usual place._  

_\--A friend_

 

Delphine no doubt. Funny timing. Casil was beginning to hate how this ‘hero prophecy’ thing was going. It was _uncanny._

She folded it back up along with the cultist’s note, before motioning for the other two to follow.

‘It’s Delphine,’ she signed.

“About time,” Sterlas muttered. “Let’s get going.”

 

‘A Thalmor _party? That_ is what you want me to break into?’ Casil signed, more bewildered than anything.

Delphine waited for Sterlas’s translation before she nodded. “I have a contact on the inside that should be able to get you in. The Thalmor still don’t seem to have figured out who you are yet, so you should be okay to get in with a forged invention. Which, I don’t have yet, but I should have soon. My contact should be able to get you into the back while the party is going, and from there you should be free to look for the papers we need. Anything that could tell us what the Thalmor might be up to and their connection with this dragon business.”

“This a one man job?” Sterlas asked.

Delphine nodded. “I’m afraid so. I don’t think my contact would be able to get all three of you in without too much suspicion.”

Casil motioned that it was a fair point. ‘So. Where do we meet then?’

“Solitude. My contact should be there to take whatever you absolutely need for this mission, and I will meet you at the stables there to get you your invitation and send you on your way. You have a few days to plan, but this may be the only opportunity we get. And we will only have one shot,” she explained.

Casil nodded her head. ‘Let’s get to the bottom of this then.’

It was the least argumentative Sterlas had seen her be in months. And all things from earlier that day, it seemed to have put her in a better mood.


	16. XVI. Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Artwork of the team has been added to chapter 1 & 15!

Casil did not give anything to the contact beyond a handful of lockpicks and a single iron dagger, which the fellow wood elf was grateful for. The poor bartender had been afraid she would have wanted a full suit of armor or something. 

Delphine had given Casil a outfit, but the dragonborn took a little extra time to put a light enchantment on it. She hoped she wouldn’t be fighting much, if at all, but she didn’t see a reason not to enchant it.

Sterlas and Jenassa waited back with Delphine waving Casil off as the carriage took off towards her destination.

The ride was quite. It always amazed Casil how snow could linger so late into the summer up there in the north, but it never seemed to melt.

Casil noticed a few other carriages ahead and behind her, guests in tow as well. Casil lifted her chin, taking a few deep breaths. People. Socializing. Via paper. Only. 

She had time to collect her thoughts before the cart pulled up into the courtyard of the embassy. Casil was helped down by a servant, and she made her way to the door.

A Thalmor Justicar stood there with a list, eyeing the small bosmer with mild distaste.

“And who might you be?” he asked.

Casil pulled out the pad of paper and charcoal she had brought with her, writing out her name before showing it to the Justicar. 

The high elf narrowed his eyes suspiciously, before scrolling down the list. “Ah. Here you are,” he sharply wrote a check mark next to her name with a quill, before stepping aside. “Right this way.”

The doors were opened by a pair of guards in full elven armor, leading her into a well decorated room that was already full of people. 

She was immediately greeted by the house’s owner.

“Welcome. I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim. And you are…?” The high elf looked her over as well.

Casil just showed her the previously written page of paper. 

Elenwen blinked, not expecting a written response. “Ah, yes. I remember your name from the guest list. Please, tell me more about yourself. What brings you to this… to Skyrim?”

Casil could tell she hated the place. To be fair, Skyrim wasn’t her favorite either, but she couldn’t stand the tone in the woman’s voice. Casil shifted uncomfortably, scrambling to come up with something to write.

Luckily, the contact, Malborn, jumped in. “Madame Ambassador, I’m so sorry to interrupt…” the bosmer said with a slight clearing of his throat, peering at the high elf from behind the marble bar he served at.

Elenwen snapped her attention to the bartender, giving Casil a chance to weasel away while more guests came in. “What is it, Malborn?”

“It’s just that we’ve run out of the Alto wine. Do I have your permission to uncork the red-”

“Of course. I’ve told you before not to bother me with such trifles,” she said, turning to look at the incoming guests.

“Yes, Madame Ambassador,” he replied, before glancing to Casil.. She gave him an exasperated look, and the slight nod Malborn gave back told Casil he agreed with the notion.

Casil made her way over to the bar, motioning to one of the glasses in request for a drink.

“Of course,” Malborn said, pouring her a glass. “One Colovian Brandy, the best in the house,” he said, before his tone dropped. “Meet me by the door when everyone is distracted.” 

Casil picked up the glass when she was done, nodding her head before returning back to the floor the other guests were mingling on.

She did not recognize most of the faces, though she did notice Jarl Balgruuf’s steward, Proventus, somewhere over in the corner. Casil surveyed the crowd. All important people no doubt. It made her uneasy. She moved to stand against the wall, holding the wine in one hand and her notepad and charcoal in the other. 

She recognized a redguard seated on a bench near the door who had arrived at the same time as she had. The man had made some remark about people showing up, but she had paid it no mind. She gave him a nod of the head when he noticed us.

“Enjoying the party, eh? What I would do to have a drink too,” the man remarked. Casil glanced at the rest of the party, before offering him her drink. He blinked in surprise, before a big grin came to his face. He happily accepted the drink and took a huge sip. “That’s more like it. A good soul, you are. If there’s anything I can give in return, you let me know.”

Perfect. Casil lifted her pad of paper now that her other hand was free, scribbling something down quickly before very carefully turning it to him.

He leaned forward, reading what she wrote with eyebrows raised. The grin returned. “Of course, friend. Attention is my middle name,” he said, before getting up. Casil edged back casually, vaguely making her way over towards Malborn.

“Attention, everyone! Could I have your attention please! I have an announcement to make!”

Perfect. Casil edged closer to Malborn, watching as a sea of sighs erupted through the crowd. Conversations dwindled off, and everyone looked to the redguard.

“I propose a toast to Elenwen! Our mistress! I speak figuratively, of course. Nothing could be more unlikely than that someone would actually want her in bed-”

“Razelan. What are you doing?” Elenwen asked through half gritted teeth, turning from her conversation to face the redguard.

“Although… most of you are already in bed with her! But again… I speak figuratively, of course!”

Malborn opened the door to the next room, motioning quickly for Casil to go through. She slid through quickly, and Malborn followed. The door closed behind them. 

“Stick with me, and don’t-” he paused, “never mind. Just stick with me. Your things are in a chest past the kitchen,” he said, walking towards the neighboring room. 

Casil nodded her eyes, following after the fellow wood elf. 

The kitchen was not empty. A khajiit peered over a cauldron. “Malborn? Who is that? You know guests are not allowed into the kitchen,” she hissed.

“Just a sick guest, Tsavani,” Malborn said, ushering Casil to follow. She feigned gripping her stomach. “Let me take the poor woman to somewhere quieter.”

“Mm, Elenwen will have to hear about this-” Tsavani began.

“And I might have to let her know about your little Moon Sugar habits,” Malborn replied, motioning for Casil to enter an extension of the kitchen after he unlocked it. 

Tsavani narrowed her eyes, before grumbling to herself and returning to her work.

Once Casil was inside the room, Malborn stepped inside for a brief moment. “Your things are in that chest,” he said lowly, motioning to the one that sat at the end of the room. “I’m going to have to lock the door behind you. Don’t. Don’t mess this up, please. The Thalmor are going to be after me until the end of my days after this. You better get what you came from,” he warned, before slipping back into the kitchen. The lock turned with a clink, leaving Casil alone in the room. 

She moved to the chest, pulling out the ring of lockpicks and the dagger before peering into the next room. There were guards, but not as many as she had been expecting. The elf glanced around. She was looking for important paper. Desks. She needed to find desks. That’s where what she needed would be. She tried to angle herself to glance at the downstairs rooms. No, it wouldn’t be in this building would it? Delphine had mentioned that there were two houses on the property. If this was the guest house, what she wanted would be in the other one. 

Casil cursed to herself, pressing herself against the wall as she waited for the guards to move so she could slink past them and get outside through the downstairs door. Of course, they didn’t. Casil scanned the room. She would have to go upstairs then. She waited for one of the guards to glance away, before she quietly snuck towards the stairs. She crept up them, glancing down the stairs to make sure nobody followed her up.

Which was foolish, because she ended up elbowing into the back of the Thalmor Justicar that had been taking names at the door. He staggered forward, turning around quickly.

“What- who- You don’t-”

A blast of fire sent the wizard to the floor, and a awkward, panicked blow from her dagger finished him off. Casil continued to curse to herself, hearing the guards downstairs shift a bit. She looked around quickly, grabbing the dead elf’s arm before dragging him into one of the neighboring rooms. Nobody was in there. Good. She pushed his body into a corner, peering out of the room to make sure nobody else was in the hall before she closed the door behind her. She crouched and quickly tried to get to the far window of the hall. She was thankful nobody was upstairs.

Casil peered out of the window. The courtyard was filled with guards. She rolled her eyes back in her head. Stealth was not her thing. She drummed her fingers on the windowsill, thinking of what she could to to distract them. Slowly, she opened the windows and pushed them open just enough to reach a hand out. Maybe if she fired a spell they would go look for where it landed. But it couldn’t be a fire spell, because the smoke would track back to her too easily. 

Ice. Ice Shiv. That would have to do. For once, frost built up in her hand instead of fire. She carefully took aim, before letting the ice shard go. It flew and crashed into the fence, exploding into a blast of cold crystals. Casil pulled the windows closed, crouching down to hope they wouldn’t notice where the attack was fired from. She could hear the guards shuffling below, and she finally glanced out again. Most of the guards were at least looking in that direction, and a few had started to move over. That was the best she was going to get. Casil pushed the windows open again, quickly trying to swing herself out of it. She cast a Drop Zone where she wanted to land, before quickly leaping. She landed into a crouch, moving to take cover behind a planter before anyone noticed her. She tried to slide herself along, glancing over the top of the planter to see if she could make it to the next one. The guard’s attention had been taken off of the ice shiv she had tossed, and the shadow that suddenly passed overhead explained why. Guards stumbled back as a dragon crashed down into the middle of the courtyard with a roar, lashing its tail out and taking a swath of guards down with the blow.

There was no better distraction, even if she had no control over it. Casil bolted for the door of the Solar, shoving it open when she reached it. The few guards inside were rushing to meet the dragon outside, giving her time to scan the room. A room. A empty room it looked like. She darted to it. A desk. Yes. Perfect. Casil scanned the table, before deciding to just pile every piece of paper and writing she could into her arms as quickly as possible, before scurrying out of the room. Her eyes darted around for somewhere to go. Was this everything? She didn’t have time to look.

Her gaze fell on a trap door. She looked around to see if anyone was watching, before she slid over and threw it open, dropping the paper down the hole before clambering down after them.

 

It wasn’t a cellar like she had thought though. Casil gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the dimly lit room below, but the fact that it was lit at all surprised her. Once she could make out where she had climbed down to, she became aware that she had descended into a hidden dungeon. A cry from a cell told her that whatever unfortunate soul that was down here was not having a good time. She scooped the paper up into her arms again, trying to adjust it to be easier to carry before she pushed on. The dungeon had two levels, and from her place on the upper one she could see the cell where a man had been shackled to a wall. A guard stood in front of him with an array of torture devices, while a justicar waited at a table with a roll of paper. 

“Let’s begin again,” the Justicar said calmly, dipping his quill into a well of ink.

“No… for pity’s sake… I’ve already told you everything…” the man stammered. The guard picked up a tool off of the table next to him.

“You know the rules,” the Justicar said idly, tapping the quill point on the paper. 

Casil spied a chest near the Justicar, and the paper stacked next to him. She set the papers down again, carefully positioning herself. If she aimed well enough… She unleashed a pair of Ice Shivs. The one aimed for the guard hit its mark, but the one aimed at the Justicar only hit his shoulder.

The high elf hissed in surprise, quickly standing from his chair and turning to face who had hit him. He caught sight of Casil immediately, and unleashed a chain of lightning. She winced as the bolt crashed into her, but much of it simply absorbed into her harmlessly. She charged up a shot, fueled off of the magicka she had absorbed from the thalmor’s attack. The ice blast she unleashed slammed into the man, sending him back over his desk and to the floor. Once she was sure he was not going to get up again, she grabbed her papers and rushed down the stairs. She slammed the papers onto the table, quickly picking the lock to the chest before she pulled everything she could out of there to add to the pile. Her eyes darted around the room, before falling on the torture victim.

She rushed to him before he had a chance to say anything, grabbing the key off of the guard’s body and unlocking the shackles. He fell to his knees, taking a moment to recover. She grabbed her notepad, scribbling a note before throwing it at him. 

‘Get out of here,’ she had written. She found a leather bag on one of the shelves and grabbed it, shoving the pile of papers into it.

“My name is Etienne,” the man said after a moment, getting to his feet. He limped over to another trap door, motioning for Casil to follow. “I’ve seen guards drag bodies down here. There must be a way out,” he said, glancing back towards the stairs uneasily. 

Casil moved to follow until she heard the sound of the trap door above open again. She whirled around, returning to fire in her hands. 

Malborn came scrambling down, raising his hands when he hit the ground. “Go, go, before the guards aren’t distracted by the dragon anymore,” he hissed, scurrying over to the other two as quickly as he could. He stumbled and knelt down in front of the trapdoor, producing a key from his pocket before rapidly unlocking it. Without another word, the wood elf slid down the ladder to the tunnel below. Casil motioned for Etienne to follow, before sliding down herself.

“I can’t believe Delphine talked me into this,” Malborn muttered as they rushed down the dark tunnels, stumbling a bit as they went. A light marked the end though, and soon the three had emerged somewhere below the road that lead to the estate itself. The sound of the dragon’s roars echoed from above, and Casil peered out to check to make sure it and the guards were still occupied. Seeing no danger, she motioned for the other two to get going. 

“Thank you,” Etienne said, nodding to Casil before he took a run for it down the road, heading towards the border. Malborn paused, glancing at Casil as well. 

“Good luck,” he stated to her simply, before doing the same. Casil watched the two go, before making a run for the stables.


	17. XVII. Stressed Out

Casil dumped the heap of papers she had retrieved onto the table, tossing the bag to the side. ‘It’s not the Thalmor,’ she signed immediately. ‘In case the dragon attack on the embassy wasn’t obvious.’

Delphine looked over the papers, turning them over before running a hand through her hair. Casil moved to grab her usual garb from the chest in the corner of Delphine’s room, laying them out so she could get out of the dress and back into her usual outfit.

“If it’s not the Thalmor, then who _is_ it?” Jenassa asked, arms folded as she leaned against the wall.

Delphine straightened her back out. “I need you to get someone,” she said suddenly.

Casil glanced back at the Blade as she pulled her robes back on.

“Who do we need to go fetch?” Sterlas asked.

“His name is Esbern. An old friend,” she said, flipping through the papers. “He’s a Blade as well, but… his location is… not as easy to find.”

‘What do you mean by that?’

“He’s taken to hiding out somewhere in Riften I believe. As you can imagine, the Thalmor have been looking for him as well. You need to reach him before they do,” she said, looking over one of the sheets Casil had grabbed in the dungeon. “...because it looks like they might have an idea where he is as well.”

‘Is that the _only_ lead you have on him?’ Casil signed, mildly vexed by the idea.

“Find a man named Brynjolf, at The Bee and Barb. He will be able to help you. And,” she skimmed the page, “if Esbern doesn’t trust you, ask him where he was on the 30th of Frostfall.”

Casil threw a glance at her companions, before nodding her head. ‘Let’s get going.’

 

Casil had once debated on setting up base in Riften. The city was known for being skeevy, with rumors that it was the home base for the Thieve’s Guild.

Sterlas was enlisted to find Brynjolf, which he did with little complaint. If he got to hang out in a bar and chat up with the patrons, he was quite content doing that. And Sterlas had found the man, and talked with him.

Sterlas walked out of the Bee and the Barb with his arms folded, grumbling to himself. “Man wanted a favor. Some pick pocketing deal,” he grumbled. Casil frowned.

‘Did you tell him who sent us and what we wanted?’ Casil asked.

Sterlas shot her a look. “Do you _think_ I’m just going to spill that out in the middle of a busy tavern Casil-”

She puffed her cheeks up. He had a point. ‘Well, where is he now?’

Sterlas glanced back. The other man had just wandered out of the inn, making his way down one of the streets before descending down to the lower, river-side level of Riften.

The party looked at each other, before moving.

Brynjolf was fully aware the group had followed him down the stairs, and stopped to lean against the wall until the party caught up to him.

“Not into sneaking around, huh?” He asked, arms folded across his chest. Casil eyed the Nord.

‘No. Our mission is time sensitive and I can and will turn you into my next necromancy project,’ Casil signed angrily. Sterlas grimaced at her words, and opened his mouth to translate but Brynjolf just laughed.

“Will you now?” he gave a somewhat smug grin. “So. What is it you’re looking for?”

It took Casil a second to answer, surprised but pleased to finally find someone who understood sign language. ‘A informant. Esbern. I was told he lives somewhere here in Riften. Delphine sent me to talk to you.’

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. “Is that so…?” he gave a light shrug, before giving his answer in sign language. ‘He’s in the Ratways.’

That was all he was going to help with, but it was enough. Casil gave a nod in thanks, before pushing past him to the door that lead to the expanse of underground tunnels that littered the ground beneath Riften. Brynjolf threw a glance his shoulder.

“I’m sure i’ll see you down there,” he said simply. Casil glanced back, blinking, before giving a short nod of her head.

Sterlas and Jenessa followed, glancing at the nord before they caught up to their leader.

“I was hoping i’d never have to end up down here,” Sterlas grumbled as Casil opened the beat door that lead into the Ratways, grimacing at the blast of putrid air that blew out.

 

The Ratways were a almost non euclidean nightmare of sewer tunnels, old jail cells, black market routes, and numerous other tunnels. They were dimly lit, damp, and reeked of an uncountable number of things. Piss, bodies, skeever, drugs. The list could go on and on. The unlucky, down on luck, and all manner of criminals called the tunnels home, so Casil entered with fire in her hand.

Sterlas pulled a piece of cloth over his nose, making a face at the smell. “Let’s get this over with as quickly as he can,” he grumbled.

Jenassa drew her swords, following behind Casil. “Do you have any idea where we’re going?” She asked.

Casil shook her head. ‘Can’t be worse than any of the Nordic ruins, can it?’ she signed, cautiously looked around a corner before she went to the next room.

 

But it could. The Ratways were a maze of traps and jerry rigged bridges and door systems. And on top of that, thugs.

Three seasoned adventurers made fairly easy work of anyone who thought themselves tough enough to take the party on, but it took time. Time Casil knew they didn’t have.

Sterlas let out a growl, the werewolf looming behind Casil. He could hear Thalmor somewhere in the echoing tunnels; where, he couldn’t pin point. Casil glanced back at her companion, before looking back at Jenassa.

The dunmer pointed forward with an ebony sword. “Keep going. We haven’t been up here yet. It looks like we should be able to get lower from up there,” she said.

Casil nodded, before pushing forward. She pushed the doors open, looking down them before she hurried down the stairs.

Casil wasn’t sure if she was relieved to see Brynjolf down there, or if she should be afraid of what she had just stumbled on.

No words had to be said. The round room was covered in barrels and boxes, with a pool of water at the center. Small wood boats sat in the water and in some of the sewer tunnels that lead out. At the end was a few other branching tunnels, and a bar where Brynjolf and a handful of others sat gathered. The nord glanced from across the hall.

“Well, you made it down here in decent time for never having come here before,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

Casil made her way around the circle to the bar that had been set up. She glanced around with wide eyes. ‘I didn’t think the Guild was actually here,’ she signed simply.

Sterlas and Jenassa followed.  “Thieves’ Guild?” Sterlas asked, “no way.”

Brynjolf let out a laugh. “Keep it hushed,” he made a motion towards the door at the bottom of a set of stairs next to the bar. “Keep going. Your friends sound like they’re already hanging around here. Keep your eye out,” he said, returning back to his drink. The others in the bar looked at the three carefully, but Casil ignored them.

She hurried down the stairs, pushing into the next maze of tunnels. Sterlas and Jenassa followed quickly, not fond of hanging around the thieves in the bar. Sterlas kept patting his pockets long after they left out of paranoia.

Casil was surprised at the number of people who lived so far down into the Ratways. Cells after cells lined the walls, each occupied and furnished like small houses. Casil spotted which cell they were interested in - at the end of one of the walks was a huge iron door with a sliding panel at eye level. Casil hurried over, glancing over her shoulder at her companions before she quickly knocked on the door.

“Go away!”

Casil sighed, knocking again.

“I’m dangerous!”

Casil turned to look at Sterlas for some assistance. The werewolf walked up.

“Esbern. Open up. Delphine sent us,” he said, arms folded. Esbern didn’t answer. Casil raised her hands to remind Sterlas of what the other Blade had told them. “Where were you on the 30th of Frostfall?” Sterlas asked.

The panel on the door slid open, and an elderly man peered through. “So she did send you,” he said. The panel slid shut. “Step back, hold on one moment-”

The three grimaced at the sound of metal grinding against each other. The sound of far too many locks coming undone echoed through the tunnels.

“Just one more. Almost done-” The door clicked, before the heavy thing swung inwards. Esbern took a few steps back, looking them over before he quickly motioned for them to come in. The three shuffled in, and he closed the door behind them. “So. What has brought you here?”

“The Thalmor are after you. They’re already in the Ratways,” Sterlas said. “We need to get out of here.”

Esbern threw a look to the door, before nodding his head. “I should have figured,” he said with a sigh, before quickly shuffling to grab his things. “Give me a minute. I have some important things I need to grab first.”

“Better make it quick,” Jenassa said, sliding the porthole open to peer out. “Because they’re already _here.”_

Barks of commands echoed through the Warren as Thalmor began to search each cell down the way. Casil readied her spells, looking to Esbern. He threw a coat on and his bag over his shoulder, before nodding for them to get going.

Jenassa shoved the door open, before standing aside quickly to let Casil throw a ball of fire into the first few Thalmor guards. They toppled over, and Jenassa and Sterlas wasted no time in charging forward to shove through them. Casil motioned for Esbern to follow, covering his back as he followed after the two tanks.

“Get them! Don’t let them escape!” A Justicar snapped from one of the cells, trying to shove past the guards to get a shot in at the fleeing party. Casil blocked the thunderbolt with a ward, backing up until she was sure the others had gotten up the stairs.

The upper Ratways were a maelstrom of fighting. Thalmor clashed with the local thugs, who were understandably less then happy at their arrival and nosing around. While most of the thugs stood little chance against fully armored guards, it was a much needed distraction from the four that the Thalmor were looking for in the first place.

Jenassa and Sterlas stayed shoulder to shoulder, barging their way through anyone who decided to stand in their way. Esbern stayed close behind them, helping Casil cast spells at anyone who was only knocked over by the juggernauts or who came up from behind on them.

With the exit in sight, Casil motioned to collapse a tunnel behind them to give them a chance to get out of Riften before the bulk of the remaining Thalmor could follow. It took Esbern’s help to cause a section of the ceiling to collapse with a bombardment of spells, but the party was out before the dust had finished settling.

 

They made camp somewhere not far from Ivarstead. The sun had long since set, but it was only then did they feel safe enough to stop for the night.

“I don’t think the Thalmor are following us,” Sterlas said, looking back down the trail they had followed. “I haven’t smelled them since we left Riften.”

“Let’s hope that’s true,” Jenassa said, throwing another log on the fire.

Esbern let out a weary sigh, leaning back against a fallen log. “I supposed it was only a matter of time until they found where I was hiding,” he said. He looked to the party. “Has… Delphine found the dragonborn…?”

Casil raised a hand. Esbern blinked, before letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank Talos. I was afraid she might not have. If my research has been correct, we are in grave danger.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Jenassa grumbled, unrolling her bed roll.

Casil tilted her head as an invitation to explain.

“If the annals and my research is right, then the World-Eater has returned. And if Aludin is back… then our world does not have much time left before he devours it.”

Sterlas threw him a look. “Is that _literal_ or a metaphor.”

“Literally.”

Casil looked at the fire quietly as her team members turned to look at her. ‘Alduin was that black dragon. He’s the one who brought back that other dragon we fought with Delphine early in the spring. He was the dragon who attacked Helgen.’

Sterlas translated for Esbern, and the old man let out a concerned hum.

“So you’ve seen him. Are you sure it’s him?”

‘That’s what the dragon he brought back to life referred to him as.’

Esbern frowned, scratching his chin. “That is… concerning. If Alduin has been around since the end of fall, then we may not have as much time as I had been hoping we had.” He knitted his brow together. “Tell me, dragonborn, how much of your voice have you learned to control?”

Casil’s steely mask returned to her face, and she made a zero with her fingers.

“No voice means no… Voice,” Sterlas said, cutting some meat and vegetables into a pot.

“I was afraid of that,” Esbern said with a shaky sigh.

Silence fell over the camp.

“Do you know how to defeat Aludin?” Jenassa asked, finally looking up from her own pondering.

Esbern shook his head. “No, but I know where we need to look. The Blades kept good records of the events that went on around them. They created this temple as an outpost, and if my annals are correct there is a wall that was carved out within it that records Alduin’s first defeat, in hopes that later generations would know how to defeat him when he inevitably returned.”

“Where is this temple?” Sterlas asked, putting the pot over the fire.

Esbern let out a hum, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “It’s in the Reach on an island in the middle of the river. I do not know if that location has a name as of current, but I know about where it should be,” he said.

The werewolf nodded, letting out a hum of his own.

Esbern’s attention turned to Casil. She stared into the fire, silent. “You seem worried.”

Casil’s orange eyes jumped to look up at the old Blade. ‘Can Alduin even be defeated? You said that he had been defeated before and now he’s back.’

Esbern picked up a stick to push a log back into the fire. “The Akaviri Dragonguard seemed to believe there was. What it was exactly, I cannot tell you. Which is the reason we need to get there.”

‘Do you think it requires the use of the Voice?’ She followed up quickly.

Sterlas took a few moments to repeat the question for Esbern.

Esbern’s blue eyes looked Casil over, his brow furrowed a little as he tapped the stick against the ground. He set the stick down, leaning back against the log again as he rested his hands in his lap. “...I cannot say for certain, but… Yes, I believe it very well might.”

Casil’s eyes fell back to the fire again. She nodded her head, hands moving to fumble aimlessly with the hem of her robe. Her head dropped more, continuing to nod.

Uneasy silence fell on the camp again. Sterlas silently cooked up dinner before serving it to each person sitting at the fire. Casil did not touch her’s. She poked at it for a few minutes, before setting it back down by the fire. She turned and climbed into her bed roll, pulling the flap over her head.

The remaining three watched her, before looking to each other. Nobody spoke until they were sure the wood elf was asleep.

“We had to face it at some point I guess,” Sterlas mumbled, idly jabbing at the fire. “I shouldn’t have encouraged this.”

Jenassa reached over and gave Sterlas a reassuring pat. “You did what you had to. None of us knew what this might end as. If she is our only hope, then the best we can do is stand beside her no matter what might happen.”

Sterlas sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Besides,” Jenassa continued, “if she was meant to save the world and needed the Voice, I doubt the gods would have allowed her to be born mute.”

Esbern went to nod in agreement, but Sterlas spoke up.

“She wasn’t born mute. Not from what i’ve gathered.”

Jenassa and Esbern frowned, waiting for the werewolf to elaborate.

“I think she got sick. Casil isn’t one to talk about her past much but, from what she has told me it sounds like she got sick or something as a kid and that’s why she can’t talk. I know i’ve had fellow bandits get sick with things that have made them unable to talk. So. I know it’s within the realms of possibility.”

“She’s a bosmer. They’re not known for getting diseases,” Jenassa reminded.

“But they’re not _immune.”_

They fell silent again.

“Let us get to Riverwood, get Delphine, and see what the wall has to tell us,” Esbern said finally. “There is nothing we can do to help this until then.”

Jenassa and Sterlas nodded in agreement.

“Let’s get some rest then,” Jenassa said, moving to her sleep roll.

“I’ll take first watch,” Sterlas offered. The other two nodded, before getting into their rolls. The werewolf glanced to the small elf.

  
He wondered if it was the gods who had been cruel first, or if it had been her that brought their fury.


	18. XVIII. Haunting

There was darkness. Darkness, and a landscape of white. Flakes blowing through the air. Feeling heavy. The acidic stench of sulfur. Feeling tired. Feeling helpless. Shards of white that sprouted up from the earth like worn down trees. A dragon, hunched down, half covered by the powdery white that drifted from above. A shadow of another. 

“ _ Wo los hi, mal dovah _ _?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Wo los hi, mal dovah?” -Who are you, little dragon?


	19. XIX. Black Out Days

Karthspire was a well known Foresworn camp, and the four went in with the full intention and expectation to fight. The Foresworn were never friendly to strangers. Casil did not understand what the Foresworn were all about, or really anything about them. Her knowledge of the strange group was that they wore little, were unfriendly, and usually hung around with hagravens.

They left their horses some ways back at a small settlement, and traveled the rest of the way on foot. The Foresworn camp stretched out before them, a series of wood platforms that stretched across the river and up either side of the island and the canyon. Night had fallen, so the camp was quiet. People were still awake, and a few Foresworn still were up mulling about.

‘So, where are we heading?’ Casil asked as the group hung back behind a pile of boulders.

Esbern motioned to a ramp that lead up the hill in the middle of the island. Some braziers had been set out in front of the entry of a cave at the top. “That must lead up to it. The entry to Sky Haven Temple should be inside there somewhere.”

Casil nodded, eyeing the cave.

“Do we sneak in?” Jenassa asked, her question mostly aimed at Casil. The wood elf shrugged.

“They’ve got guards up there,” Sterlas said, squinting.

‘Answers that question then,’ Casil signed. ‘Is everyone ready.?’

A nod from each of her followers was enough, and Casil moved out from behind the rock. The four quickly made their way towards the ramp that lead up to their destination, hoping to build some distance under the cover of the dark before anyone noticed them.

The guards at the entry of the cave took first notice, and did not hesitate in attacking. A shout from one alerted the others in the camp below, and Delphine cursed under her breath.

“Let’s get going. Quickly,” she said, pulling her sword out of the body of one of the Foresworn.

Casil nodded in agreement, hurling a fireball at one of the first Foreswarn below to react. A flash of light on the hill across from them confirmed that a hagraven was hanging around, and was now fully aware of them.

“Get inside,” Jenassa said, moving to stand between Casil and the Foresworn. She raised an arm up in time to block an arrow with her shield, a item she didn’t usually carry along with her. Casil hurried after Delphine and Esbern, hoping Jenassa and Sterlas would be able to hold the fort. If anything it gave Sterlas a chance to turn into a werewolf while the two Blades had their backs turned.

The three rushed inside of the cave system, which was not much of a cave at all. The tunnel only remained underground briefly, before the ceiling opened up above them. A stone building had been carved out of the deep canyon’s walls, taking up either side before fusing in with the furthest wall and no doubt continuing further in. The architecture wasn’t one Casil was familiar with. It wasn’t like any of the nordic ruins she’d seen, nor was it Dwemer.

“This must be the entry,” Esbern said, scanning the structure before them. He noticed a set of pillars to the right of the canyon, and motioned for the other two to follow. The three made their way up a dirt ramp, and Esbern crouched down in front of the cones of stone. He carefully moved one, and it turned with a slight grinding noise. “Yes, these must be the key to getting inside. These symbol are Akaviri in origin. One of them must be for Dragonborn. If we can get all of these to turn to that symbol, then perhaps we will be able to proceed.”

Casil glanced at him, mildly surprised he didn’t just turn them himself. Part of her wondered if it was some sort of test. Esbern stepped aside so she could stand in front of them. Casil took a few minutes inspecting each symbol, turning the middle pillar to get a look at what was written on each side. None were familiar to her, which was frustrating. If they had been in draconic, she might have at least had a chance to figure it out. Instead, she decided to go with what looked the closest to the word they wanted. Two lines, maybe dragons. The formed a sort of heart. She turned each pillar so the arrow on the pedestal pointed to the side she wanted.

There was a familiar rumble of something happening, and a bridge to their left swung down before them.

Esbern clapped his hands together. “Perfect!” he exclaimed, ushering Casil to cross. She moved ahead, but paused in the middle of the bridge to see if she could catch a glimpse of Jenassa and Sterlas. She could still hear fighting, but the angle and length of the tunnel was enough that sound was all she could get. “Hurry, there’s no time to waste,” Esbern insisted.

Casil glanced back at him with mild frustration, but she pushed forward. The bridge led to another tunnel, which made a short turn to a very crudely carved out chamber. Esbern lit a torch, holding it up to illuminate the dark room. The floor was a series of tiles, each carved with the same symbols as the pillars. A few more stretches of stone rose into the ceiling, each with a hole carved out into them.

“It must be a puzzle,” Esbern mused, but before he could speak again Casil was already moving.

Puzzle her ass. She had spotted a chain on the far wall, and without any word Casil broke out into a sprint. Fireballs burst out of the pillars along either wall every time she stepped on a symbol that wasn’t the dragonborn one. Casil could not care less. Between wards and her ability to absorb magicka from her birth sign, the fireballs did little. She stumbled onto safe platform under the chain, before she pulled it. There was a grinding under the floor, and Casil made a motion for Esbern and Delphine to be the ones to the hurry up.

Esbern rubbed his face, before he followed after her. “Be a bit more careful please-” he said in exasperation. “We don’t need you to lose you to something that is simple to avoid.”

Casil huffed, waiting for Esbern to walk ahead with the torch. She wearily glanced back in the direction they had come. Jenassa and Sterlas better be okay.

A bridge stretched out before them, clearing a crevasse before connecting to another section of the building. A circle lay carved into the far side’s floor, and a stone face blocked what Casil assumed was the only way into the temple.

The three crossed the bridge in silence. Esbern raised the torch to the face, before looking at the seal on the ground. He turned to face Casil. “This is the seal to keep anyone else out. It… well, it will require some of your blood. Only a dragonborn can open this seal,” he explained.

Casil reached a hand out. Esbern pulled a knife off of his belt, handing it over to the dragonborn. She crouched down in front of the seal looking at the palm of her hand for a few moments.

Behind that door would be the building the wall was stored in. Behind that door was the answer to if she could even defeat Alduin. Behind that door was the answer to if the world was going to end or not. Casil was afraid of what the answer to that question would be. She took a deep breath, before drawing the blade across her hand. Her face contorted in mild pain, before she held out her hand and gave it a tight squeeze so blood would fall down onto the seal. She had to make a second cut to get enough blood for the giant stone head to finally lift up, revealing the door behind.

Casil wiped the knife off on her robe, before handing it back to Esbern. The Blade awkwardly returned it to his belt, before turning to face the doorway and passing through. Delphine followed, but Casil hesitated for a few minutes. Behind that door was an answer she was afraid of hearing. Esbern didn’t tell her to hurry up, and he made a motion for Delphine to let her be. Casil would come in when she was ready.

Casil was still standing there when Sterlas and Jenassa finally caught up. They slowed to  a stop behind her, searching for the two Blades.

“Casil…” Sterlas began, glancing down to the wood elf. She had a vacant stare, focused on the darkness of the doorway ahead of them. She hadn’t bothered to heal the wounds on her hand and had let the blood keep dripping. Sterlas bit his lip. “Where did Esbern and Delphine go?”

Casil raised a hand and pointed ahead. Jenassa and Sterlas looked at each other in concern, before Sterlas reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

“...When you’re ready then.”

Casil took a deep breath, before tilting her head up. She balled her hands into fists, wincing slightly at the gash she had made before she strode forward with all the pride and strength she could muster.

Delphine was waiting for Casil further inside. Remnants of the Blade’s occupancy centuries before littered the dark ruins, but thanks to the seal the place hadn’t changed since the seal had closed.

“Esbern went ahead. We… found the wall,” she said.

Casil nodded her head, trying her damnedest to keep her face unwavering. Delphine motioned for the three to follow, holding her own torch now.

The Wall of Alduin was a grand carving, spanning an entire length of the main hall of the building. The carving didn’t look like it had worn away at all, and was undoubtedly the best preserved piece Casil had ever seen. Esbern stood next to it, muttering to himself in excitement as he walked slowly down the wall, examining every detail of it.

“They predicted it all,” Esbern said in amazement. “Alduin’s return. The civil war. The Oblivion Crisis. Everything was prophesized on this wall, and it looks like it was carved yesterday.”

Casil made her way up the stairs to join Esbern, but Jenassa, Sterlas and Delphine stayed below.

‘Does it tell us how to defeat Alduin?’ Casil signed.

Esbern glanced to her, before moving further down the mural to the center. A great carving of Alduin illuminated the center, surrounded by three humans with arms raised to the heavens. Esbern leaned forward, holding the torch up to light the stone carving.

“It seems that the three dragonborn that took down used a Thu’um on Alduin to bring him down,” Esbern said after a pause. “What shout and what purpose it achieved is not clear.”

Casil’s eyes scanned the wall as she did all in her power to keep her face from faltering.

Esbern walked down the length of the wall, to the very end. He raised his torch high. Alduin framed the very end, fire tangling out of his mouth and into a man holding a shield. The dragonborn symbol hung over his head like a halo. “The battle between Alduin and the dragonborn will mark the end of time. That is the last thing the wall speaks of,” Esbern stated.

Casil turned her back on the wall, stepping back down the stairs. Esbern turned to watch the woman walk back down the hall they had come from.

“So that’s it?” Delphine asked. “She’s just going to walk away?”

“She can’t shout,” Sterlas said quietly, looking over the wall himself.

Delphine shot him a look. “You are only _now_ telling me this!?”

“We thought it might be obvious at this point,” Jenassa said dryly.

Delphine shot Esbern an half panicked look. “So this is it? Alduin can only be defeated with a shout and the _dragonborn can’t use them?_ ”

Esbern did not reply. He looked at the ground, before looking at the wall again. “...It would seem that way.”

Delphine stared at the old man in disbelief, at a loss for words.

Sterlas turned to follow after Casil.

“Where do you think you’re going!?” Delphine snapped, in shock.

“After the dragonborn. What do you think?” He replied, not bothering to turn back to look at them. Delphine shot Jenassa a glare, but the dunmer just moved to follow Sterlas. The breton watched the dragonborn’s companions leave, unable to do anything to stop them.

 

Casil was already on her way, and Jenassa and Sterlas agreed that giving her room was the best choice.

 

She did not stop. Her horse was growing tired, but the beast pushed on. Faint light was starting to light up the world around her, filtered by a thin layer of clouds. The Throat of the World towered in front of them, a behemoth that dwarfed all the other towering mountains that made up a large part of Skyrim.

If anyone had answers on shouts, it was the Greybeards. Plans formulated in her head as her horse pushed towards the mountain, hooves thundering on the path below. She couldn’t shout, but they could. Hell, she had seen draugr shout. There had to be away around her problem. She had made it that far, and she was trying hard not to lose her hope.

When night rolled around, Casil and her companion slowed but never came to a stop. Casil pressed on, exhausted but she was _determined_ to make it to High Hrothgar as soon as she could. She could not stay awake though.


	20. XX. Recover

Casil awoke to blinding light and biting snow. She winced, sitting herself up in her saddle. Once her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she could make out where they were. The horse was slowly making his way up the 7000 steps, and had made a good distance. The dragonborn sat up, rubbing her face as she tried to collect her wits. The sun indicated to her that it was well into mid morning, and she was astounded that she had both slept for so long and managed to stay on her horse while doing so. He gave a shake of his mane, acknowledging that his rider was awake. Casil gave her horse a firm pat on the neck, looking around. Sterlas and Jenassa were nowhere in sight. The bosmer pursed her lips. They would find her. If anyone could, it was those two.

Casil slid off of the horse’s back, moving to walk beside the tired beast. She reached up to stroke its face, silently promising it a heap of hay and a good rest once they got back down from the mountain.

They might not have much longer anyways, Casil bitterly thought.

The dragon skeleton had not moved since it had been slain many months prior. Snow had gathered in great piles over it, leaving only the highest points visible. The horse snorted uneasily, and Casil gave it a pat in reassurance. She led it over to one of the sparse patches of plant life that had managed to spring up out of the snow, tying it to a branch of a tree before she turned to face High Hrothgar.

Casil shoved the doors open, a gust of wind following her as she stepped in. Nobody lingered in the main hall, so she diverted her path to one of the side stretches. She found Arngeir in meditation, and waited against the wall until he at last spoke.

“What is it that we may help you with this time, dovhakiin?” he asked finally, turning his head to look at her. She pulled her journal out of her bag, scribbling down her words.

‘I need to know the shout that was used to bring down Alduin.’

Arngeir read the writing with a cool gaze. “I must ask you where you learned of such a shout, and I must wonder what you plan on achieving by knowing it.”

‘The Blades led me to the Wall of Alduin. And I plan on fulfilling my destiny.’ She wrote angrily.

Arngeir frowned. “Ah. The Blades. Sticking their noses into things they don’t understand, as usual,” he sighed, before getting to his feet. “Knowing the shout will not change the fact that you cannot use it.”

‘Can’t you use it? I’ve seen other things use shouts. Why am _I_ the only one who needs to know it?’

“The Thu’um can be used by those who are not dragonborn, yes, but it takes many, many years to learn a single word. And even then, it will never be nearly as powerful as a dragonborn’s would be.”

Casil inhaled sharply. She stared Arngeir down, before she managed to write again.

‘Then what? You can’t give me help? Alduin is coming back, and you’re just going to let him end the world?’

Arngeir turned to walk down the hall. “If Alduin is back, then perhaps it is time for this world to come to an end,” he spoke. “I have nothing more to say to you on this matter.”

The charcoal snapped in Casil’s hand, and without hesitation she lunged forward. Arngeir had expected it, and calmly turned to side step her illy aimed swing.

“ _Arngeir, Rek los Dovahkiin, strundu’ul. Rek fen tivaak Paarthurnax.”_

The voice of one of the other Greybeards echoed through the halls. Arngeir and Casil paused. Arngeir pursed his lips, before bowing his head.

“No, Einarth is right. I am sorry, dovahkiin. I forgot what my duty is,” he said with a sigh. He motioned for Casil to follow. “Since you cannot shout, I will lead you to where your answer might be,” he said.

Casil stared, baffled by the sudden change. She silently thanked whichever Greybeard had spoken up, before stiffly following after Arngeir. The monk pushed the doors open to the courtyard, before walking towards the path that lay beyond it. Casil noticed the other Greybeards coming out as well, though the other three lingered in the courtyard as Arngeir came to stop at the start of the path.

A wicked wind howled past it, unnaturally dense and violent. “This path will take you to the top of this mountain, to the Throat of the World. The weather here is dangerous, so I will assist you in your journey,” Arngeir said, though there was a slight hint of resentment in his voice. Casil stopped behind him, looking to the path. The monk inhaled. “ _Lok vah koor!”_

The winds swirled to a gentle breeze as the power rippled through the sky. Arngeir wasted no time in heading down the path. “Swiftly,” he ordered.

Casil took a look back at the others. One, who she assumed was Einarth, gave her a nod. Casil returned it, eyes darting to the ground before she moved to follow after Arngeir. Soon, the path behind them faded as the winds kicked up again into an impassable wall.

The path was longer than Casil expected, and she understood why she would have needed to know the shout to make the pass. But at last, the path leveled out and the worst of the weather seemed to halt as suddenly as it had begun. Arngeir motioned for Casil to proceed, before stepping back and waiting beside the path. Casil gave the monk a confused look. The only thing up there was a broken wall, and a bit more of the very tip of the mountain that extended up into the sky. She made her way over to the wall, but could not make anything out on it. The weather had long since eroded any trace of text. She reached a hand up, running her fingers over it.

A shadow passed overhead, and Casil flinched back. Fire burst into her hands immediately as she looked up, but immediately she regretted it when her gaze met the bright sun instead. Casil stumbled back, bringing an arm up to cover her eyes as she tried to get the bright burning orb out of her vision. She could feel the gusts of wind from the great wings of a dragon, before it landed on the word wall in front of her.

For a brief moment, Casil wondered if that was it, if Arngeir had lead her up to her death at the hands of a dragon.

But nothing happened. When the light finally faded away from Casil’s eyes, she lowered her arm and dared to look upon what had landed.

Ancient. He was ancient. Scars riddled his giant body, and his wings were tattered to the point that Casil was unsure how he even flew. Ghostly white eyes looked down at her, and his white-yellow scales glistened in the sunlight. Most of the horns and spikes that covered his body were broken and chipped, and even a few teeth were missing from his beaten maw.

“ _Drem Yol Lok._ Greetings, _wunduniik._ I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my _strunmah_ … my mountain?”

Casil stared at the dragon, before she took a deep breath. She reached into her bag, digging for a bigger book then her journal to write her response in in hopes the dragon would be able to read such small handwriting. She scribbled her reply in big letters, before stepping back and holding it up so he could see it.

Paarthurnax let out a hum of surprise, craning his neck a bit to get a better look at the page. Casil wasn’t sure if he could even _see._ The cloudiness in his eyes had told Casil that the old dragon might be blind, or at least partially blind.

‘I wish to find the shout to stop Alduin.’

The dragon chuckled. “ _Drem._ Patiences. There are formalities that must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the _dov,_ though you seem to fear speaking to me. By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu’um! Feel it in your bones! Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!” he said, before whipping his head to blast a burst of fire onto the wall.

Casil felt her heart sink. She stared into the fire, noting what had been inscribed into it. _Yol._

“A gift, Dovahkiin. _Yol._ Understand fire as the dov do. Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as a dovah!” The dragon commanded.

Casil understood the word. She understood the fire, the power behind it. She could feel the understanding as the dragon passed his own knowledge of the word to her. Her body trembled. She could feel the strength and meaning in it. It welled up into her chest, and she opened her mouth.

Paarthurnax watched her as silence left her mouth. Casil stared at the wall, before falling to sit in the snow.

Why had she thought that would work? Why had she bothered coming up there?

Paarthurnax looked to Arngeir, before looking back to Casil. “You cannot use your Thu’um, can you, dovahkiin?” He asked. He did not seem angry, but it did not stop Casil from feeling the disappointment.

Casil bowed her head, trying to keep her emotions bottled in as she shook her head.

The dragon let out a hum. “ _Dez los munax._ The gods have allowed you to walk a strange path, _krosis._ A event unforeseen, _ni ko hin suleyk.”_ He straightened himself out, thinking. “You seek the Word of Power that _mah_ Alduin, no? Though you cannot use it?”

Casil nodded, hands balled into fists before she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“I expected this, though… not in this way. That Alduin and the Dovahkiin would return together…” he hummed again, folding his wings close into his body. “I do not know the words in which you seek. No, they are beyond my understanding, beyond what I can comprehend. A shout made by _joor muz,_ mortal men. But,” he shifted his spot on the wall, before motioning his head to a spot not far from the wall.

Casil turned to look. She hadn’t noticed before, but now that it had been pointed out to her she could see that in a small patch of the mountain, the snow that gently drifted in the breeze was moving significantly slower than the rest of the mountain. The air seemed to wave, contorting the scenery behind it as if looking through water or at a oasis. Casil looked back to Paarthurnax with a look of questioning.

“When Alduin was defeated the first time, he was not truly beaten, as you know. A _kel,_ a Elder Scroll as you would call it, was used to send Alduin adrift in time. As it seems, we merely sent him to this time. If you were to obtain a Elder Scroll, then… perhaps you could return to the beginning of the _tiid-ahraan,_ the time-wound. Then you might know the word that you seek.”

An Elder Scroll. Casil lifted her head, taking a deep breath. She gripped the book and wrote her question.

‘Do you know where one could be found.’

Paarthurnax let out a deep rumble. “ _Krosis._ I do not. I have not wandered far from this peak in many _eruvos_ , in many years. Where the Scroll may have gone, I do not know.”

Casil turned to look at Arngeir. The Greybeard shook his head as well.

“Though,” Paarthurnax continued, “Might I suggest where the _kro lahvraan?_ Mm, as you call it, the College?”

It was a direction. Casil took a deep breath, before nodding her head. She pushed herself off of the ground, trying to stand pridefully before the dragon as she scribbled into her book. ‘I will not fail.’ She turned to step towards Arngeir, but Paarthurnax shifted.

“Dovahkiin,” he spoke, and Casil paused to look at him. “ _Dreh ni gahvon hind._ There is still hope. But _hon,_ listen,” he rumbled, “I have spent many centuries acting on well-considered thoughts. I suggest you do the same. There are many out there who would not hesitate to use your _sulyek_ , your power, to their advantage… though you may not believe you have any.” With that, the dragon took to the sky in a shower of snow, disappearing into the blue above.

Casil watched him leave, before she looked back to Arngeir. He stood at the start of the path, hands folded behind his path. “Be weary of the Scroll, dragonborn. Such blasphemies are the calling of mages, not the followers of the Way. Take your question to the College of Winterhold. They may be able to help you.”

Casil frowned. ‘I don’t have a choice, unless you know of another way to defeat him.’

“Perhaps not. But this Shout was used once before, was it not? And here we are again. Have you considered that Alduin was not meant to be defeated? Those who overthrew him in ancient times only postponed the day of reckoning, they did not stop it. If the world is meant to end, so be it. Let it end and be reborn.”


	21. XXI. Sail

Sterlas and Jenassa caught Casil as she was heading down from High Hrothgar. She explained what had happened at the Throat of the World, heading towards the College of Winterhold. Casil held her chin high as she spoke, trying not to let the fear and doubt take root in her heart anymore then it already had. She was going to find a way to solve this, to defeat Alduin. The idea that Tamriel might disappear because of her was too great. She knew the Blades and the Greybeards had doubts. She was intent on proving them wrong, no matter what it took.

 

Casil hoped Urag gro-Shub hadn’t discovered that _she_ was the one who had raided all of the unlocked bookshelves a few years prior. To her relief, he hadn't.

Casil stepped into the Arcanaeum of the College, peering around. The large room was quiet as always, and she noted that while most shelves had been restocked, they were still looking a little sparse. A handful of students sat on benches or at tables throughout the room, studying quietly. Only a few even bothered to look up as Casil entered the room, but quickly went back to their studying.

Sterlas and Jenassa had staked camp in town while Casil did her research. Casil didn’t want to draw more attention than she had to to herself. She made her way over to the old, grumpy looking orc who sat behind his small desk. He was busy fixing the bindings of one of the books, and Casil had to tap on the desk to get his attention. The orsmer pulled back from his work, squinting his eyes at her.

“ _Casil?_ Hrmph. I thought you had left the college for good,” he grumbled, leaning back. He set his tools down, folding his arms across his chest. “Come back to study again?”

Casil shook her head. ‘I’m looking for an Elder Scroll.’

Urag scrunched his brow. “An _Elder Scroll?_ Do you really think we have one of those just laying around, or that you could just _check out_ if we did? An Elder Scroll is a instrument of immense knowledge and power. To read an Elder Scroll, a person must have the most rigorously trained mind, or else risk madness. Even so, the Divines usually take the reader’s sight as a price,” he said with a grunt. “You should know that. A Elder Scroll is a reflection of all possible futures and all possible pasts. Each reader sees different reflections through different lenses, and may come away with a very different reading. But at the same time, all of it is true. Even the falsehoods. Especially the falsehoods.”

Casil puffed her cheeks up. ‘I get it. Just. Trust me on this. I need to find one.’

The orsmer eyed her, before grunting and getting up. He walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a pair of books, walking back and handing them over to Casil. “This is the best I have. You be careful, you hear?”

Casil took the books as Urag sat back down, returning to his work. _Effects of the Elder Scrolls_ and _Ruminations on the Elder Scrolls_ were the names in the binding of the books. Casil nodded in thanks to the orc, moving to sit down at a nearby table. The wood elf pulled out her journal and map, before she thumbed through both of the books, but stopped on the second book. Her eyes skimmed what was written scrawled across the pages, before looking over at Urag.

The orc looked up again when Casil knocked on her table for his attention.

‘None of this book makes any sense,’ Casil signed, tilting up _Ruminations on the Elder Scrolls._

“Hrmph. One of Septimus Signus’s books. He was a specialist on Elder Scroll lore, and used to study here some time ago. He hasn’t been back to the college in many years though,” Urag explained.

‘Where could I find him?’

Urag raised a brow of suspicion, leaning back again. “He became obsessed with some Dwemer artifact and took off north. Here,” he held out his hand, motioning for Casil to hand him her map. He looked it over before dipping a quill in a inkwell. He eyed Casil for the ok to mark the map, and at the nod of her head he carefully put a little X on a island somewhere to the north of the college before handing it back.

Casil nodded in thanks, getting up. ‘Can I borrow these books?’

Urag nodded. “Whatever you’re doing, Casil, be careful. Elder Scrolls aren’t meant to be taken lightly, though…” He looked her over, “... I’m guessing you don’t have much of a choice.”

Casil quickly signed him a thank you, scooping the journal and books back into her bag before she headed out to the city again.

The ‘island’ Urag had marked out was not an island at all, but a large ice floe. Casil was thankful enough ice was still left for them to cross to the floe without having to swim. The floe had a small hollowed out cave, in which the trio found Septimus Signus.

The old man was off his rockers to say the least. A wardrobe and some basic necessities lined the wall of the cave, and in the back was a enormous Dwemer cube. Casil entered the cave with caution, stepping down the ramp to the lower floor after knocking on the side of the ice to get the man’s attention.

Septimus turned, clearly surprised that he had visitors. Sterlas followed after her, leaving Jenassa to guard the door.

“Hmm?”

Casil wasn’t sure if she actually had expected the madman to have anything else to say about their sudden arrival.

‘I need to know where Elder Scrolls are.’

Septimus made a face of consideration for a brief moment. “Elder Scrolls. Indeed. The Empire. They absconded with them. Or so they think. The ones they saw. The ones they thought they saw. I know of one. Forgotten. Sequestered. But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus, for I… I have arisen beyond its grasp.”

Sterlas squinted, shaking his head. “ _What-”_

Casil squinted as well, but elbowed the werewolf. ‘Where can I find it?’

Sterlas repeated it, but gave Casil a look that said ‘why do you bother.’

“Here. Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it’s all nearby.”

Sterlas raised a hand as if that proved his point. Casil shot him a glare. ‘I’m not here because I _want_ to be, Sterlas. If I had any leads I wouldn’t be trying to get my information from this guy.’

“You see this masterwork of the Dwemer,” he suddenly spoke, making a motion to the cube that took up a good half of the space inside the cave, “Deep inside their greatest knows. Septimus is clever among men, but he is but an idiot child compared to the dullest of the Dwemer. Lucky then they left behind their own ways of reading the Elder Scrolls. In the depths of Blackreach one yet lies,” he said, nodding his head knowingly.

‘Blackreach?’ Casil had not heard of the place before.

“Under deep. Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alftand. The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. But not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock  to jump beneath the deathly rock.”

Divines, Casil was ready to throttle the man. If the fate of the world wasn’t currently resting on directions from the madman Casil swore he’d already be dead.

‘Alright. Just tell me where to go and what I need to do,’ she signed, rubbing her face.

A weird grin came to the mad old man’s face. He scurried over to a chest, opening it before pulling two items. A sphere and a cube, clearly Dwemer in origin. He handed them out to Casil. “One to unlock, one to record.”

Casil eyed them, before shoving them into her bag. So whatever he wanted was, presumably, where the Elder Scrolls was. Casil gave an awkward nod, moving to leave.

“You look to your left, you see one way. You look to your right, you see another. But neither is any harder than the opposite. But the Elder Scrolls… they  look left and right in the stream of time. The future and past are as one. Sometimes they even look up. What do they seen then. What if they dive in?”

Casil looked back to him, and he gave her a smile.

“Then the madness begins.”

She felt a chill roll down her spine. She did not like where things continued to go.

 

Blackreach was not a place Casil had heard of, but the other locations were at least places she was able to find without too much research. In fact, Alftand wasn’t too far at all from where they currently were.

The trio did not skip lightly on packing this time.

“From what i’ve heard around town,” Sterlas said as they packed in the Frozen Hearth, the single inn and running business in Winterhold, “nobody has been able to get too far into Alftand. Too many Falmer and Dwemer constructs. We’re not going to have a easy time ahead of us.”

Jenassa eyed the edge of one of her swords. “We need to be careful then. This may be the only shot we have at getting a Elder Scroll, let alone one anytime soon.”

Sterlas looked to Casil. The woman had been rather quiet again. “We’ll get through it fine. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

Jenassa glanced to Casil as well, before nodding. “If we can fight a dragon, there isn’t anything in there that we can’t handle.”

Casil sat in the corner of the room, turning the blank lexicon in her hand. She just wanted everything to be over with. She wanted to wake up from this dream and go back to her normal life.

 

Summer was hardly coming to an end, and already a snowstorm had blown in. Flakes drifted down from the sky as Casil stood on the edge of one of the giant, eternally frozen shelves of ice that encompassed the Dwemer ruins of Aftland.

“It’s… incredible that these ruins still stand, all these years later,” Jenassa commented, looking over the towers that jutted up out of the ice. Sterlas nodded in agreement.

“Lot longer than the people who made ‘em,” he grunted.

Casil scouted for a way to get down, carefully sliding down a snowdrift to reach one of the platforms.

“Hey, don’t go breaking your leg already-” Sterlas shouted, watching the wood elf casually throw herself over one of the balconies to land in the next snowdrift. The werewolf sighed, glancing at Jenassa before he slid down after her.

“You can’t get mad at her and then do it yourself!” Jenassa yelled, following in line as well.

Casil couldn’t help but crack a little smile as she made her way over to the door that lead into the giant ruin.

Signs that people had been in there recently were apparent on the frozen slopes that lead down to the first floors of the Dwemer ruin, but the people who had been there where nowhere to be seen. Water dripped from the ceiling, running along pipes that cut through the ice. Sterlas made a face at the metallic smell. Piles of Dwemer artifacts littered wheelbarrows and corners of the room, including a handful of dismantled constructs. Casil looked longingly at all the artifacts, but Sterlas grabbed her head and turned it forward.

“Hey, i’m willing to carry some of your shit for ya, but like hell am I dragging a few thousand pounds of Dwemer metal around for you.”

Casil managed a playful pout, before looking to Jenassa.

She raised her hands. “You may have paid me, but you have not paid me enough for _that._ ”

Casil tried to pout more, until her foot made contact with something relatively squishy. She glanced down quickly, eyes falling on the half-frozen body of a khajiit.

Sterlas sniffed his nose, putting his hands on his hips. “Well, there’s one of the workers here,” he commented, eyeing down the tunnel that lay beyond.

Jenassa crouched down, digging a arrow out of the cat’s side. “Falmer.”

“Figured as much,” Sterlas mused. He looked to Casil. “Well, we’ve had are fun just leisurely strolling. You ready?”

Fire already burned in Casil’s hand, and she pulled a torch out to light with the other hand. Sterlas and Jenassa did the same.

 

Casil had no words to describe the inside of the Dwemer ruins. Beautifully carved stone stretched up far into the ceiling, decorated by careful notched edges and long lines that divided great blocks of stones. Golden metal accented the carvings in the form of filigree and statues, and piping and gears stretched along the walls, ceiling and floor. Great gates divided rooms, activated by intricate levers and powered by steam. It was a genius that Casil could only dream of. Casil couldn’t keep her hands from running over the beautiful carvings in the stone, and while she desired to run her hands along the metal a boiling hot pipe had taught her the lesson that much of the ruins were still working.

Much of the upper level was sparsely inhabited. There were plenty of clear signs that Falmer and their chaurus had passed through, but none seemed to be currently lingering that far up in the ruins. The further down the team traveled, the less ice encroached on the ruins until at last, it had all disappeared.

 

Sterlas put his foot onto the chest plate of a dwarven sphere, trying to unwedge his axe from the fallen automaton’s remains. “Nines, I don’t think we’re anywhere _close_ to being out of here and i’m already getting tired of these things,” he complained, changing his position.

Casil glanced from her work healing a decent-sized gash in Jenassa’s side.

“It’s astounding they are still _running,_ ” the dunmer said, wincing. Casil nodded in agreement, pulling her hand away once her work was done.

Sterlas violently wiggled the axe, before trying to lift it and the entire construct up. “How much further should we go before we stop for the day? Or, night-” He strained, before managing to shake the sphere off of his axe. He kicked it away with a grunt, which he immediately regretted. He pulled his foot up, hopping as he winced. “Damnable constructs-”

Casil shrugged. ‘We’ve been going for awhile. I’m not sure how far we’ve gotten, but it also hasn’t been a clear shot.’

The hour or so of exploring had been quiet, but soon after they began to run into more and more unfriendly creatures who called the ruins home. On top of that, the three found that the Dwemer ruins were far from straightforward. They had backtracked several times, and had spent a considerable amount of time just trying to figure out how to open doors or get bridges to drop.

“We’ve done a rather… thorough job of clearing out the rooms around here,” Jenassa said, remembering how many times they had managed to walk in circles and get turned around by near-identical looking passages. “That, and I believe there is a gate at the end of the hall in front of us. This should be as safe of a room as we’re going to get down here, as long as one of us keeps watch. Falmer are known for sneaking up on adventurers.”

Sterlas checked to make sure the gate was relatively closed, before went to pile the metal remains of the constructs in front of it. “For noise, if anything decides to open that door,” he explained at Casil’s raised eyebrow.

They decided not to have a fire that night, relying on the gas lighting that lightly flickered in a few of the outlets of the walls and cured meat. They huddled their bedrolls into one of the corners, pulling whatever they could lift to make a small wall between themselves and the rest of the room. Jenassa took first shift, giving the other two a chance to catch some sleep before they took their shifts.


	22. XXII. Icarus

“ _Daar hahnu… mindin nid hahnu fah grik lingrah tiid…_ _”_

It could not have been snow. It did not fall like snow. It was lighter, dryer.

The dragon lay beneath the shelf of stone, the fall of white heavier than the previous time. A pale light washed from some unknown point far ahead, up the unknown hill the dragon climbed. The world faded to black outside the narrow, contrasting gaze of the light.

“ _Hi dreh ni lost Thu’um, dreh hi mal dovah_ _?”_

It was dark, darker than dark. A sort of light absorbing black. Something wriggled on its skin, or perhaps that was its skin. Where the light did not land was lost to the all encompassing darkness behind it. Something dripped from the writhing, from its mouth. Its eyes were black voids, the kind you feared you would get lost in forever if you dared to meet them.

“ _Hi nis bo, mal dovah_ _?”_

A rolling voice, born from from some place that it did not belong.

The dragon shifted in the bones of its brethren that littered the ground below the ridge.

“ _Hi lost nid rot, dreh hi mal dovah? Nid rot, gro wah fin gol, nid bo. Nu, hi dein unt. Kril, uv hi los mey. Hi lost nid suleyk wah krif nau, mal dovah. Gahvon. Hi los viik. Til  nid miiraad zeim daar fah hi. Zu'u dreh ni mindoraan. Nahlot gein, dreh hi paar wah meyz zok? Til los faas ko un rii, mal dovah. Mu daal het, vulon mindin vulon. Zu'u mindok hi ni gaaf do dii hahdrim... hi mindok zu'u ni aan gaaf do hin. Wo hi_ _?”_

The dragon had no response. Its head lay heavily amongst the bones, black slime dripping from the thing above cascading over its back. The world felt like it was being sucked into the empty gaze of the other.

“ _Tinvaak wah zu’u, mal dovah. Fin lein los ful nahlot. Hi los ful nahlot. Un grind nid folaas, mal dovah. Dez lost wahl daar do mu._ _”_

The wind picked up, obscuring the world around the dragon.

“ _Fin yolod meyz lot_ _.”_

The dragon finally raised itself, pushing out past the ledge to head back up the mountain. The other watched, writhing, shifting.

“ _Ful. Nu hi bovul nol zu’u. Aus daar wuth dovah wah fin vulom. Grik nax, mal dovah. Nu, hin pahlok fiik ko hin bo. Hi los nid pruzaan, mal dovah. Dreh ni mindol fah tiid daar hi los. Nust fen vahruktsaan hi_ _.”_

They continued, impassive to the pleading of the oily black creature. The beast extended its neck, perhaps a wing, reaching as the dragon struggled onwards.

“ _Dreh ni bonau, Nahlotfel! Dreh ni aus zu’u daar vulom, daar du, daar bahlok, daar saanfahdon. Zu’u mindok hi hon zu’u. Zu’u haalvut hi. Daar dez. Hi nis vonun, mal dovah._ _”_

Attention was turned to the creature at last. It lunged forward, maw agape, reaching a dripping wing out. It did not make it to the dragon. Tendrils held it in place, and try as it might, it could not leave its shackles on the ledge.

“ _Hon, Nahlotfel. Zu’u fen aak hi. Hi nis drun daar ol gein. Hi mindok daar. Hi hon zu’u. Hin zii bex koraav. Hi fen koraav dii. Mu gein ko fin ronit, mal dovah_ _.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Daar hahnu… mindin nid hahnu fah grik lingrah tiid…”** -This dream… after no dreams for such [a] long time...
> 
> \--> **“Hi dreh ni lost Thu’um, dreh hi mal dovah?”** \- You do not have [an] Thu’um, do you little dragon?
> 
> \--> **“Hi nis bo, mal dovah?”** \- You cannot fly, small dragon?
> 
> \--> **“Hi lost nid rot, dreh hi mal dovah? Nid rot, gro wah fin gol, nid bo. Nu, hi dein unt. Kril, uv hi los mey. Hi lost nid suleyk wah krif nau, mal dovah. Gahvon. Hi los viik. Til nid miiraad zeim daar fah hi. Zu'u dreh ni mindoraan. Nahlot gein, dreh hi paar wah meyz zok? Til los faas ko un rii, mal dovah. Mu daal het, vulon mindin vulon. Zu'u mindok hi ni gaaf do dii hahdrim... hi mindok zu'u ni aan gaaf do hin. Wo hi?”** -You have no words, do you little dragon? No words, bound to the ground, no flight. Yet, you keep trying. Brave, or you are [a] fool. You have no power to fight on, little dragon. Surrender. You are defeated. There [is] no path beyond this for you. I do not understand. Silent one, do you desire to become greater? There is fear in our hearts, little dragon. We return here, night after night. I know you [are] not [a] ghost of my mind… you know I am not a ghost of yours. Who [are] you?
> 
> \--> **“Tinvaak wah zu’u, mal dovah. Fin lein los ful nahlot. Hi los ful nahlot. Un grind nid folaas, mal dovah. Dez lost wahl daar do mu.”** -Speak to me, little dragon. The world is so silent. You are so silent. Our meeting [are] no mistake, little dragon. Fate has constructed this for us.
> 
> \--> **“Fin yolod meyz lot.”** -The fire-snow [ash] becomes greater
> 
> \--> **“Ful. Nu hi bovul nol zu’u. Aus daar wuth dovah wah fin vulom. Grik nax, mal dovah. Nu, hin pahlok fiik ko hin bo. Hi los nid pruzaan, mal dovah. Dreh ni mindol fah tiid daar hi los. Nust fen vahruktsaan hi.”** -So. Now you flee from me. To suffer this old dragon to the darkness. Such cruelty, little dragon. Yet, your arrogance mirrors in your flight. You are no better, little dragon. Do not think for [a] moment that you are. They’ll memory-loss [forget] you.
> 
> \--> **“Dreh ni bonau, Nahlotfel! Dreh ni aus zu’u daar vulom, daar du, daar bahlok, daar saanfahdon. Zu’u mindok hi hon zu’u. Zu’u haalvut hi. Daar dez. Hi nis vonun, mal dovah.”** \- Do not fly-on, Nahlotfel! Do not suffer me [to] this darkness, this devouring, this hunger, this loss-friend [loneliness]. I know you hear me. I feel you. This fate. You cannot hide, little dragon.
> 
> \--> **“Hon, Nahlotfel. Zu’u fen aak hi. Hi nis drun daar ol gein. Hi mindok daar. Hi hon zu’u. Hin zii bex koraav. Hi fen koraav dii. Mu gein ko fin ronit, mal dovah.”** -Listen, Nahlotfel. I will guide you. You cannot make this as one. You know that. You hear me. Your soul opens to see. You’ll see mine. We [are] one in the same, little dragon.


	23. XXIII. Loud

The grinding of the lift was painful on everyone’s ears. Metal screeched against metal as the ancient Dwemer mechanism slowly descended further into the earth. The three huddled tightly in the center, watching the walls slowly grind past them. It was unnerving. The initial lurch of the elevator was enough to almost cause Sterlas to get off. The thousands of years that had passed since the Dwemer had used and provided upkeep for the lift was incredibly concerning. Casil wondered how far down they were going. She had never been bothered by caves and tunnels, but there was something about this that went beyond what she was used to. The ruins had lead much, much further down then she thought she’d ever been. Once or twice Sterlas had just managed to stop Casil from accidentally causing explosions thanks to gas leaks. The descent to their destination, or what they _hoped_ was their destination, only got harder and harder as they went. Their only saving grace was that the Falmer were nomadic, which meant they sometimes got lucky and had time for a breather before hitting another small band of the subterranean race. The constructs, however, got more abundant and difficult to kill the further they went. What had started as a few small construct spiders had slowly ramped into full blown centurions. None of them were excited to find out what else might be in Blackreach itself.

The lift shuddered, slowly coming to a stop. A heavy door slid open, before finally a ornate gate opened before them as well. Casil took a deep breath, taking a step out to stand just outside of the elevator.

Casil had not known what to expect from this place, but it wasn’t _this._ She had called many caves and caverns in the past massive; caverns with trees, caverns with a whole building, but this? This was a whole _city._ The ceiling extended so far up that she couldn’t even make it out beyond the small patches of glowing blue stone that sparkled like stars. The usual glowing mushrooms that propagated the walls in Dwarven ruins now sprouted up like entire trees, towering above the group as the grew out of patches of dirt and rock. Roots covered the walls and ground like lattice, and smaller mushrooms clustered at the edges of beautifully intact buildings. There was not any major light source, but Casil could still see fairly clearly thanks to the ambient glow of the giant tendriled mushrooms. The distant sound of crashing water told her that a waterfall emptied into the cavern somewhere, and she could make out the glimmer of a river zig-zagging through buildings. Somewhere far down the way was one great sphere that glowed a fantastic shade of yellow, dangling like a miniature sun over a dense collection of buildings. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. Casil slowly stepped onto the worn, half lost stone path that lead around through Blackreach, marveling. Jenassa and Sterlas stepped out behind her, gazing around with half slacked jaws.

“This… is incredible,” Jenassa managed first, eyes wide.

Sterlas nodded in agreement, hands on his hips. His gaze fell onto something glinting in the light through a cluster of stones, before wandering over. He crouched down. “Hey, Casil. Come look at this.”

Casil blinked and walked over, crouching down by him. Sterlas looked at her, before motioning to a section of rock. Casil squinted, before generating up a bright ball of light between her hands before letting it drift into the air.

Ebony. Her fingers ran over the stone. It was a ebony vein. Her eyes lit up, and she scrambled for the pick ax on her belt. Jenassa walked over in confusion, before Sterlas lept up and let out a laugh.

“Ebony! Can you believe it! Right here! Can you imagine what else must be in here if there’s ebony?” He laughed, giving Jenassa a rough but playful spin before he almost skipped off to another pile of rocks, searching for other veins.

Jenassa looked over Casil’s shoulder as the smaller elf dug away at the rock. “Would you look at that. This place is… really something. More than what I was expecting to find,” she admitted, taking a few steps away from Casil to scan the slope below them. She walked back to borrow Casil’s spyglass, surveying the ruins around them. “It looks like we have Falmer to watch out for,” Jenassa said.

“Well, about what I would expect,” Sterlas said, carefully climbing up a wall to reach a ledge that had jutted out from the wall next to the elevator. “See anything promising?”

Jenassa swept the scope across the buildings. “Nothing notable beyond what is normally notable. The group of buildings under that glowing orb seems to have a lot of activity around it, though i’m unsure if that’s where we should be looking for the Scroll.”

Casil shoved the ebony ore into a bag once she had dug out a good amount, sort of dancing giddily as she made her way up next to Jenassa. The dunmer handed off the spyglass to her, and Casil did her own sweep.

‘There’s a few centurion racks by the paths. We’ll have to be careful,’ she signed after taking a look, closing up the spyglass. She glanced back to Sterlas. ‘Anything from up there?’

Sterlas crouched on the ledge. “I mean, if you’re askin’ me i’m gonna say _all_ of this is interesting,” he admitted, before turning to grab something from the corner of the ledge. He tossed a small glowing rock at her. “I mean, look at that. I see a bunch more of it around, maybe a few other veins of stuff. This place is wild.”

Casil bent over to pick up the rock, turning it in her hand before pocketing it. Useful or not, it was pretty damn neat. It clearly had not been touched by anyone other than the Falmer, who didn’t exactly do much. Then again, it had taken the attunement sphere Septimus had given her to even get the lift to work. Blackreach was not an accessible location by any means, which to Casil meant that the loot down there should be better than anything she had ever encountered before. Great loot _and_ a Elder Scroll? Casil could hardly contain her excitement. Suddenly the woes and struggles of the past few weeks had melted away in simple, short sighted bliss.

Before Sterlas could even get down from the ledge, Casil had darted off down the path to inspect the nearest building. She bolted up the spiraling staircase that surrounded the outside of the building until she could get to the top and get a much better look at everything.

She couldn’t even _see_ to the other side. Suddenly, with a vague sinking in the pit of her stomach, did she realize _exactly_ how big Blackreach was. She produced her spyglass from her side again, scanning the area. As much as she would love to loot every building down there, they did not have the time nor the means to transport it out. She would have to get to the point of their trip, and plan excursions back down there at a later time. Until then, they needed to start looking for which building could possibly house a Elder Scroll.

‘It’s not going to be a small one. From the looks of this place and from what I know of the Dwemer, the security and housing for a Scroll they were studying isn’t going to be some shoddy shack,’ Casil signed as the party set up camp at the top of one of the spires. She shoved a grilled leek into her mouth, contemplating as she stared intensely into the fire.

Sterlas stirred the pot of stew he was cooking. “So that at least rules out all these little house lookin’ buildings. Are we under the assumption this doesn’t go _deeper?”_

Casil made a sort of  grunt, furrowing her brow. She tapped a half finished leek on her lips in thought.

“If we don’t find it looking through the larger buildings, _then_ we should assume it goes deeper. Until then, I think it would be wise to assume it doesn’t,” Jenassa said, surveying their surroundings again. Casil nodded in agreement.

“So what should we do about getting back out?” Sterlas asked. “Because I sure don’t fancy getting stuck down here.”

‘I saw more tall structures, like the one we came in through,’ Casil signed. ‘I think there are other lifts up.’

“To the _surface_ or into other ruins?”

Casil shrugged.

“I’ve seen small Dwemer structures that looked to be lifts near where we entered. It’s very well possible that there are more that lead directly to the surface,” Jenassa interjected, focusing the spyglass on the very faint and distant moving forms of Falmer. “I do not envy any creature that makes its home down in these damp, dark caverns.”

‘How much supply do we have left?’ Casil asked.

Sterlas leaned back, shuffling through his bag. “Should last us a day or two more. There’s probably stuff to eat down here too, if ya don’t mind eating, say, chaurus and those fancy glowing mushrooms. Wonder what the big ones taste like,” he mused.

Casil shrugged. ‘Let’s not find out right now,’ she signed, an idle thought she would return to many, many months later.

“Well, for now let’s eat what we have and keep a lookout for other known edibles while we search. Let’s try to avoid some of the bigger buildings around that orb though if we can,” Jenassa said, “that place is crawling in Falmer.”

“Watch the Scroll be in there,” Sterlas teased.

Casil sent him a glare. If he was right, she was going to strangle him.

 

Blackreach was _gargantuan._ Casil later realized that the traveling distance between the two furthest points would have taken a full _day_ to traverse, a fact that she had been thankfully unaware of while she looked for the Scroll. Their search was not quick either. The three took their time to explore the ruins, pausing to dig up ore out of veins or, to Casil’s absolute glee and fascination, soul gems. The woman had never seen or even _heard_ of where the mysterious crystals came from, and Sterlas had to keep Casil from spending hours digging at them. Soul gems were an important asset to her as a necromancer and a enchanter, and getting ahold of them was difficult. They were the sort of thing you came by on chance from the possession of another, or in hushed exchanges between mages.

The first day of searching yielded nothing. The giddiness of Blackreach wore off, and Casil could feel the anxiety and fear of the future creeping back into her bones. She could not sleep that night. Was a Scroll even down there? Maybe she was wasting what precious little time she might have left lost in the dark abyss of a long forgotten ruin.

 

Casil felt like she was starting to lose track of time by the time. Being underground really threw her off after anything more than a day, and Casil wasn’t sure how many days they had been down there now. She felt tired, sleepy, sluggish by the time they had reached what Casil could vaguely make out as the Tower of Mzark inscribed in a copper plaque that was stationed above the door, etched in Dwemer. The whole party was getting tired.

Sterlas shoved the doors open, peering to see if anything was immediately inside, before holding the doors open for Jenassa and Casil. It was a small room that lead immediately to a spiral staircase. Casil slinked up it, leaving the bulk of her bags at the bottom so she wouldn’t have to haul a hundred pounds of rocks up and down the staircase.

Around, and around, and around…

Casil peered over the edge as she came to the final turn. The stairs opened up onto larger room, at the center of which was a large gold and tarnished disk. Around the edges were stone tables and chairs, backed by pillars against the walls that had the remains of carvings, banners and lights in them. The disk beveled upwards in slopes to a disk in the center that was ornimated by a green-blue glass. Above it was a array of curved arms that held disks of similar glass at the ends, and at the very middle of all of the arms a pale light filtered down onto the device. The stairs curved up and stopped at a slightly higher platform that overlooked the room, that was fitted with a series of great tubes that lead to some sort of console. Casil peered around the room for any sign of trouble, before she skulked up to the uppermost platform.

Buttons. Of course there were buttons. There was a center device that had glowing dots and lines on it which made little sense to the elf, and on either side were two buttons, each of which were covered by a small metal cage that prevented her from pressing them. Casil rubbed her chin as Sterlas and Jenassa entered the room, in awe at the machine. One of the series of cylinders that jutted up from the ground had a strange device instead of a button. Casil looked over it, before shuffling through the smaller bag she kept at her side. She removed the lexicon Septimus gave her, eyeing the device wearily before carefully dropping the cube into the center. The metal cages over the first two buttons slid open with a metallic clang.

Jenassa and Sterlas walked up to stand behind her.

“Hm. So these buttons must control that thing. There must be some sort of order to press them in…” Jenassa began.

Casil slammed a hand onto one of the buttons. The machine whirred, before the loud grinding of metal echoed in the chamber as what was apparently a full _sphere_ in the center of the room loudly turned. The rings Casil had mistaken as part of the disk circled and changed as well, bringing a new set of glass circles up on the center orb. Sterlas and Jenassa cringed at the noise.

“Be careful-” Sterlas began as well.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

The machine hissed and shook, changing its position a few time as Casil mindlessly hit the buttons. One of the cages to the left of the center slid open, and without any hesitation Casil hit that button. The arms on the ceiling now whirred, changing their position a few times before the last cage slid open. She hit it hard, and the arms pulled away from the center of light that now streamed through the glass.

Another arm descended from the ceiling, bringing with it a huge horizontal blue-green oblong shape surrounded by smaller vertical oblongs. The middle section lowered down more, before splitting at the gold ring in the center. The container opened up with a hiss, before falling still.

Casil slowly walked down the stairs, unblinking. She climbed the metal edge of the machine, too afraid to breath. She stood in front of the container, hands raised but too shaky to move them further.

It was gilded in gold, easily three feet long. Beautiful purple handles extended out, adorned with gold filigree and intricate carvings like the rest of it was. Purple gemstones were set into the ends, and even the metal bar intended to pull it open was very, very ornately carved. The contents were hidden inside the gold shell, and a beautiful star embossed the front of it.

With a deep breath, Casil reached out and picked up the Elder Scroll. It was _heavy,_ a aspect she felt she should have guessed just by looking at it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reverently held the legendary artifact in her hands, admiring it.

“Is that…?” Jenassa slowly came back down the stairs.

Casil nodded. It had to be. She could _feel_ the power in it. Very, very carefully Casil moved to carry it down the stairs, acting as if she were afraid any sudden movement might make the scroll crumble away forever. She could almost hear Sterlas prancing behind her.

“We got it!” he whispered excitedly. “We found an Elder Scroll! We’re one step further!”

Casil tried to shove the intruding reminder that they had still not solved the whole ‘no voice’ thing, but she tried to key into Sterlas’s boundless excitement.

Jenassa couldn’t believe the woman had opened the machine so easily, but that was just how Casil went about things. She’d watched the bosmer open difficult locks by sheer strokes of luck. Maybe the gods were trying to make up for the trouble she was going through.

“Let’s get back to one of those elevators and get out of here,” Sterlas said, heading down the stairs after Casil. “I’m ready for a breath of fresh air.”

Casil nodded, pausing before going back up the stairs. She gently tied the scroll onto her back, before she grabbed the lexicon out of its holder. Septimus had wanted that, she couldn’t forget it. She sprinted down past Sterlas before he could say anything more. She was ready to get the hell out of the underground as well.


	24. XXIV. Tongue Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Part I - Skyrim

They had found one of the elevators that lead up directly to the surface, and from there the group traveled back to the frigid iceberg that the old wizard had taken up residence in.

“Hey, old man! We brought you back the cube,” Sterlas called when they entered the iceberg, making his way down the icy ramp.

Septimus turned around, a weird grin on his face. “Ah, wonderful! Give it here, give it here,” he said, scrambling over to the adventurers.

Casil shuffled around in her bag, producing the cube before handing it off to the malnourished wizard. He turned it in his hands, before scurrying back to the box murmuring some gibberish nobody understood. The group awkwardly glanced at each other. Septimus waved a hand at them to leave.

“Have to study it, shoo shoo!”

Casil raised her eyebrows, giving a sort of exasperated look to the other two before shrugging. That was fine with her, they had other things to do. She made her way back up the ice.

“What a weird old man,” Sterlas grumbled lowly, assuming the madman wouldn’t hear. Casil looked over her shoulder and nodded in agreement, raising her hands to reply.

‘At least we don’t have to deal with him. I did my part in return for the scroll. If he wants to stare at the cube all day now, that’s fine. He can find someone else to help him now.’

Casil turned her gaze back to the entry of the cave, before letting out a strangled shriek of terror when she was instead met with a wall of tentacles and eyes. The eyes slowly blinked, drifting around the formless mass that blocked the way out. Casil staggered back a few feet, almost falling off the edge before catching herself. She didn’t budge, looking over… _whatever this was_ that had appeared. Jenassa and Sterlas gave Casil a funny look, and said something that was lost on the terrified bosmer.

“Come closer. Bask in my presence,” the abyss spoke in a slow drawl.

Casil made a horrified face. Like Oblivion she was going to get closer to that! Before she could give Jenassa and Sterlas a confused, terrified look, the abyss extended a tentacle and dragged her closer. Casil went rigid, pulling her hands up to her chest. It was not going to take ‘no’ as a answer. She wondered if she should just shoot the thing.

“I am Hermaeus Mora. I am the guardian of the unseen, and knower of the unknown. I have been watching you, mortal. Most… impressive,” it said.

No, no no no. This was not good. Casil gulped, staring into the many eyes of the Daedric Prince’s avatar. Slowly, she managed to form a reply.

‘What do you want from me?’

“Your continuing to aid Septimus renders him increasingly… obsolete. He has served me well, but his time is nearing its end. Once that infernal lockbox is open, he will have exhausted his usefulness to me. When that time comes, you shall take his place as my emissary. What say you?”

 _Oh no._ Casil shook her head violently. ‘Sorry I have other important things to do,’ she decided to sign with a peevish look on her face.

The Prince’s avatar gave a low chuckle. “Ah… yes… Busy being the dragonborn, are we? Too important of a task to ignore me?”

‘I need to figure out what to do so Alduin doesn’t eat the world.’ She signed, brow furrowed. ‘If I can’t figure out how to use whatever shout I need to learn, then it won’t matter what you want me to do because everyone will be dead.’

The eyes squinted a bit, and some of the tentacles curled up before one extended out. In a flash, it had pulled something out of her bag and dangled it in front of her face. “Oh, but I think you already know how to solve,” Hermaeus Mora rolled, letting the Bosmer to carefully take it out of the grasp of the tentacle. The slimy black tentacle retracted into the void.

Casil unfolded the letter again. It was the letter from the cultists that had jumped her. She furrowed her brow slightly. No… that was right. She glanced to the many eyes watching her, biting her lip. Oh this was only getting worse.

“Do we have a deal?”

Casil inhaled sharply. ‘We’ll see,’ she signed slowly.

The abyss seemed displeased, but its voice didn’t waver. “Be warned. Many have thought as you do. I have broken them all. You shall not evade me forever,” he said, before disappearing as suddenly as he had appeared.

“Casil, are you alright?”

The bosmer snapped her attention to Jenassa and Sterlas, startled. Had they not seen the writhing abyss...? The redguard put a hand on her shoulder in concern. She slowly nodded her head, before pulling to go outside.

‘Let’s just get to the Throat of the World, alright?’

Jenassa and Sterlas pursed their lips, but followed.

 

The weather was not much different at the Throat of the World. Casil bundled herself up in a warmer jacket this time, thankful Arngeir was willing to help her and her companions back up to the top of the mountain. Paarthurnax perched on the word wall, turning to look at the dragonborn as she waded through the snow.

“You have it. The Kel - the Elder Scroll. _Tiid kreh… qalos._ Time shudders at its touch. There is no question. You are doom-driven. _Kogaan Akatosh._ The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then. Fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs,” Paarthurnax spoke quickly, clearly keeping an eye out.

‘I still can’t _use_ it though,’ Casil signed, lips pursed, ‘but I might know someone who can. I just need to know the shout to play it safe-’

“Go then, dovahkiin. You do not have much time,” the dragon urged, a low rumbling coming from his throat. “You may not have another easy chance to read it. _Krosis…_ ”

Casil closed her eyes tightly for a moment, before quickly making her way to the Time-Wound itself. She stepped into the strange waving patch, feeling the odd pull it gave as she stepped in. Casil pulled the scroll off of her back, giving one last look to Sterlas and Jenassa. Her companions nodded their heads, clearly getting ready for a fight. Casil looked ahead again, before carefully opening the scroll.

Symbols littered the page, glowing with a searing bright light. In a moment, the world warped around her as the symbols burned themselves into her eyes. The world went white for a moment, before it seemed to suck back in on itself as the symbols lingered.

 

The Throat of the World was a blazing red color, the fiery sky reflecting brightly off of the snow. Two individuals in full armor faced down a dragon. One of them rushed the dragon, managing to get a foothold on its snout before running up to the top of it’s head. The beast snarled, trying to shake the woman off but the warrior held on, swinging her sword down.

“Gormlaith! We’re running out of time! The battle…” The other began.

“ _Daar sul thur se Alduin vorkii._ Today Alduin’s lordship will be restored. But I honor your courage. _Krif voth ahkrin._ Die now, in vain,” the dragon snarled, shaking the woman off his head.

The man did not waste time in charging his enemy, quickly rejoined by who Casil could only assume was Gormalaith. Between the two of them, the dragon soon collapsed into the snow with one last roar.

“Know that Gormlaith sent you to down to death!” the woman howled, before leaping off of the now dead dragon’s face. The two looked around, before sheathing their swords and hurrying to the center of the clearing. “Hakon! A glorious day, is it not!?”

The man grunted. “Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade?”

“What else is there?” Gormlaith mused, folding her arms across her chest.

“The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost,” Hakon said gravely.

Gormlaith responded with a grin. “You worry too much, brother. Victory will be ours.”

The two turned their attention to another human as he hobbled towards them.

“Why does Alduin hang back? We’ve staked everything on this plan of yours, old man,” Hakon said, folding his own arms across her chest.

“He will come. He cannot ignore our defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?” the elderly man replied, leaning on his staff as he came to rest in front of the other two.

“We’ve bloodied him well. Four of his kin have fallen to my blade alone this day,” Gormlaith replied, moving one hand to tap the hilt of her sword pridefully.

“You do not understand. Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. He is beyond our strength, which is why,” the old man reached to something on his back, “I brought the Elder Scroll.”

Hakon took a step back, brow furrowing darkly. “Felldir! We agreed not to use it!”

“I never agreed. And if you are right, I will not need it,” the old man said simply.

“No. We will deal with Alduin ourselves, here and now,” Hakon snapped, turning to face the sky.

“We shall see soon enough. Alduin approaches!” Gromlaith said, drawing her sword as she spotted the great black dragon.

“So be it,” Hakon muttered, drawing his own weapon.

Alduin landed on the word wall with a heavy, earth shaking thud. His claws dug into the stone like butter, and he stared down at the mortals befor him.

“ _Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu’u hin daan_ _!”_ Alduin roared, causing the earth to rumble more, before he spread his wings once more to try to take to the sky.

“Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!” Gromlaith cried. Gromlaith and Hakon took a brave step forward, before releasing a shout in unison.

“ _Joor Zah Frul!”_

Alduin violently recoiled, crashing into the ground as a faint blue aura glowed around him. “ _Nivahriin joorre_ _!_ What have you done? What twisted Words have you created!? _Tahrodiss_ Paarthurnax! My teeth to his neck! But first… _dir ko maar_ _,”_ the great dragon picked himself up with a terrifying hiss, turning his maw towards the two heros. “You will die in terror, knowing your final fate… to feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!” He snarled.

“If I die today, it will not be in terror,” Gromlaith said bravely, readying her sword. “You feel fear for the first time, worm. I see it in your eyes. Skyrim will be free!”

Without hesitation, she charged. Hakon followed at her side, and Felldir followed behind him. Alduin let out a deep rumble, before lashing out and grabbing Gromlaith in his teeth. He gave her a few violent shakes, before tossing her against the word wall. The woman did not get up again. Hakon narrowly dodged a swipe from the dragon’s claws, trying his best to harm the dragon but to no avail.

“No, damn you! It’s no use! Use the Scroll, Felldir! Now!” Hakon howled, rolling under another swing of the dragon’s claws.

Felldir quickly stepped back, before opening the scroll. “Hold, Alduin on the Wing! Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater! By words with older bones than your own we break your perch on this age and send you out! You are banished! Alduin, we shout you out from all our endings unto the last!”

A light began to generate around Alduin, and he whipped his his head back in forth to see what was happening. “ _Faal Kel…!? Nikriinne…”_

And he was gone.

“You are banished!” Felldir cried one last time, before falling to his knees.

Hakon stared at the spot Alduin had stood moments before, panting as he rested a hand on his knee. “It worked… you did it…”

“Yes, the World-Eater is gone… may the spirits have mercy on our souls,” Felldir said tiredly, before the world warped violently again.

 

Casil staggered, giving a gasp as she fell onto her back. She closed her eyes tightly as the runes faded out of her vision, before she opened them once again.

Her vision was met with the terrifying visage of Alduin.

“ _Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor_ _._ My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin. Die now and await your fate in Sovrngarde!” The giant dragon snarled, before he dove towards Casil.

Paarthurnax slammed into Alduin’s side, causing the enemy to stagger off into the rocks. “ _Lost funt_ _._ You are too late, Alduin! Dovahkiin! Run!” The dragon roared, bashing his head into Alduin again.

Casil rolled and pushed herself to her feet, a wave of snow from the two fighting dragons covering her as she did so. She looked around frantically. Where had the scroll gone…? She must have dropped it when she had fallen over. She fell back to her knees, digging through the kicked up snow to find it.

“ _Bo, Dovahkiin!_ You know the shout! Flee while you can!” Paarthurnax snarled, wincing as his former master exhaled a wave of fire.

Alduin couldn’t know that Casil could not use the shout. She had to get out of there, and find the one that maybe, just maybe, could. He couldn’t know that either. Casil got to her feet, narrowly avoiding a swing of Alduin’s tail before joining up with Sterlas, Jenassa and Arngeir. Sterlas grabbed her without hesitation, picking her up before the three ran as hard as they could back down the path.

The battle raged on at the top of the mountain when they reached High Hrothgar. Arngeir slammed the doors to the courtyard behind them, whirling to face Casil.

“Did you find the words you need?” He asked, trying to catch his own breath.

Casil nodded as Sterlas set her down, before her hands flew. ‘I need to get to Solstheim. There might be someone there who can learn the shout.’

Arngeir furrowed his brow. “Someone on Solstheim…? Who may be able to learn the shout in time…?” He frowned. “I do not believe I have heard of such a person, nor do I know where you got such information,” the monk trailed off, “... but if you believe there is someone, then go. Quickly, before Alduin is no longer distracted.”

Casil took a deep breath, before nodding. She turned with her companions and rushed for the other door.

“Be careful of what you say and who you go to, Dovahkiin,” Arngeir warned before she made it out of the door. Casil threw a look back to him, worried before she simply nodded and rushed outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu’u hin daan!”** \- Fools! Treacherous slaves! Your hopes [are] all withered! I [am] your doom!
> 
> \--> **“Nivahriin joorre!"** \- Cowardly mortals!
> 
> \--> **"dir ko maar"** \- Die in terror.
> 
> \--> **“Faal Kel…!? Nikriinne…”** -The Elder Scroll….!? Cowards...
> 
> \-->“Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor" - My hunger has been fed by mortal souls.
> 
> \-->"Lost funt" -You fail.


	25. XXV. Sleepsong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Start of Part II - Dragonborn

They had taken a ship out of Windhelm. In fact, it was the _only_ ship in all of Skyrim that would make the passage between Skyrim and Solstheim, and it had taken quite a bit of convincing and some extra coin to get them to go again.

Something had happened apparently, which Casil assumed had to do with the cultists. The ship captain, Gjalund Salt-Sage, had explained that they had no recollection of the last trip from Solstheim to Skyrim beyond seeing the Cultists, and claimed something odd was going on at the island. He had no intention of ever going back to the place, but Casil sure as hell wasn’t taking that as a answer.

The Northern Maiden was a decent ship, but Casil nor Sterlas were boat people. The two spent the day and a half long sail vomiting over the edge, praying to the Divines that they would be on the island soon. Casil was thankful the seas weren’t too rough though, and couldn’t imagine taking this trip in the winter or anything similar to that. Summer was coming to an end and fall was apparent in most places in Skyrim, and Casil couldn’t help but hope that this whole ordeal would be over by winter… in one way or another.

Nobody on the ship knew who Miraak was, which left Casil with nothing to start on. She spent all non ill moments on the ship looking over the note. She felt stupid that it took a Daedric Prince to point out that she _did_ know a solution to her problem, or she figured she did. If Hermaeus Mora pointed it out, then her hunch that this man might also be dragonborn must be true.

But why had he not come to assist? What did the cultists and note mean by True and False dragonborns? Was it because she couldn’t use her Thu’um? Why did they act like he was appearing from somewhere? Did they mean showing up to Skyrim? Why had the Greybeards, Paarthurnax or even the Blades mention anything of another dragonborn?

It made her feel uneasy.

They arrived midday to the small port city of Raven Rock.

“Well, here we are. This is Raven Rock. Can’t say i’m all that glad to see it again. Good luck. Maybe you can figure out what’s going on around here,” Gjalund muttered as the ship pulled into the docks.

Raven Rock looked like garbage, if Casil had to be frank. It was run down and clearly rarely visited by outsiders. Ash covered most parts of the city, a feature which the entire south side of the island shared thanks to the distant Red Mountain. Casil had watched the far off behemoth spew ash as they drifted closer to Solstheim, and a few times the wind shifted and sent a rain of ash over them. Casil could already tell she was going to get tired of the ash very, very quickly. The population, as she had learned, was largely made up of Dunmer. Casil recalled that Solstheim had once been a part of Skyrim, but after Red Mountain’s catastrophic eruptions years prior and the Red Year that followed it had been handed over to Morrowind and the Dunmer as a shelter for refugees. Jenassa seemed low-key excited to be surrounded by people of her own culture, though Casil wasn’t sure how close she was to Dunmer society. Had Jenassa ever been to Morrowind? She didn’t know. The Dunmer made a point of not talking about her past too much, which was a trait all three of the companions shared. It was in the past, and for Jenassa and Casil the past could have been at least a hundred years ago. Sterlas just didn’t talk about his as a rule of thumb, which Casil interpreted as embarrassment.

The group carefully got off the ship, Casil and Sterlas both having to take a moment not to puke as they did so. A well dressed dark elf approached them, raising an eyebrow at Casil and Sterlas before clearing his throat for their attention. Casil held up a finger to ask for a moment, lurching before making a face. Oh, she hated ships. She liked the land so much better. She straightened herself out finally, putting her hands on her hips as she gave the dunmer a weary glance.

“I don’t recognize you, so i’ll assume this is your first visit to Raven Rock, outlander. State your intentions,” the dark elf said sternly, arms folded behind his back as he surveyed the group.

‘We are here looking for someone named Miraak,’ Casil signed, to which Sterlas repeated.

The man frowned slightly. “Miraak… I… I’m not sure that I do know anyone by that name,” he said.

Casil felt her heart sink more. ‘We were told to come here by him,’ she decided to say.

The dunmer scratched his chin. “I swear I know the name, but cannot place it. The name has something to do with the Earth Stone, I think. But i’m not sure what.”

Well, it was a start. Casil thanked him. Before he turned and left, he gave them one last word of advice. “Just remember, Raven Rock is sovereign territory of House Redoran. This is Morrowind, not Skyrim. While you’re here you will be expected to abide by our laws. As the Second Councilor I will not let outsiders cause any mishaps here.”

Casil nodded a little nervously, throwing Jenassa an uneasy glance. The other Dunmer didn’t seem to be worried, so Casil tried to relax as the Councilor wandered back onto land. Casil gave him some space, before following into the town.

Raven Rock was not big. A majority of it lay on the waterfront, backed by a tall cliff of strange hexagonal stones and a old wall on the right. The guards wore heavy armor that Casil could only assume was made out of chitin, which was a material she had never really considered using for material. Strange spiky plants and roots sprouted out of the ash, and some of the houses were clearly Dunmer architecture and also probably made out of chitin. It felt very foreign to Casil. She had always wanted to visit Morrowind, but had never had the reason to. She came to a stop in the middle of town with Jenassa and Sterlas, looking around. Locals walked by, and she shifted uneasily at their glances.

“So what now?” Sterlas asked, folding his arms across his chest. “Should we go check out that rock or whatever that guy was talkin’ about?”

Casil shrugged. ‘Seems like a start,’ she signed, looking around. She could make out a structure just a little ways out of the small town, and with no other interesting things in town the woman decided to just head over there first. Jenassa and Sterlas didn’t question it. If it wasn’t what they were looking for, they would just ask someone in town. Maybe this thing Casil saw would help them anyways.

A ashen path lead out of the port town and to a large pillar of rock that rested towards the edge of the sea. A ring of stone surrounded it, and shin deep pool of water rested around the middle pillar. A decent number of people were gathered around it, tools in hand as they worked on a second structure that was beginning to surround the stone. Archways of stone were being carefully set up, and chisels, hammers, pickaxes, and a whole slew of tools lay strewn across the ground. Casil approached, eyeing the structure. Nobody even looked at her when she got to the stone ring.

It was like they were in some sort of trance. The worked away mindlessly, muttering something to themselves as they did. Casil frowned, before she noticed a dunmer on the other side who was examining the structure like she was. Casil glanced back at the Earth Stone, before walking over to him.

“You there… you don’t seem  to be quite in the same state as the others here. Very interesting. May I ask what you’re doing here?” he questioned as she approached, very quickly noticing her rather normal behavior. Casil motioned for Sterlas to come over to translate to her, before she replied.

‘I’m looking for someone by the name of Miraak,’ Casil signed, looking over the man. His outfit told her that he was probably another wizard, and one that thought of himself very highly. He wore a red robe and scarf with beautiful gold swirls on it. It had a high collar and pauldrons, and was supported with a sash and belt. The dunmer had a long, angular face accompanied by a black beard and mustache, and a short shaved head. She could tell he was certainly older.

The dunmer let out a hum, scratching his beard. “Miraak… Miraak… It sounds familiar, and yet I can’t quite place… Oh. Wait, I recall. But that makes very little sense. Miraak’s been dead for thousands of years,” he mused idly.

Casil turned her head slightly, giving the man a confused look. ‘He’s… been dead? Then why did someone say that he had sent people after me?’

The man gave a shrug. “I’m not sure, but it’s fascinating, isn’t it? Perhaps it has some relation to what’s going on here,” he said, waving a hand to the structure that was being built. “Quite unexpected. I’m afraid I can’t give you any answers. But there are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak’s towards the center of the island. If I were you, i’d look there,” he said.

Ohh, this was a lot to take in. Casil swallowed hard, trying not to show her stress. ‘I didn’t catch your name,’ she decided to sign.

He was about to return back to watching the workers, but paused and raised an eyebrow. “Ah, how rude of me. My name is Neloth, Master Wizard of House Telvanni,” he said with a sweeping motion. “And you?”

‘Casil.’

He just replied with a slight grunt and a nod, before returning his attention to what was going on.

‘What are they doing?’ Casil decided to ask.

“Building something, clearly,” Neloth said, “And yet they don’t seem to have much to say about it. I’m very interested to find out what happens when they finish it,” he mused.

Casil furrowed her brow, raising one eyebrow to look at the almost zombified townspeople and guards that were working on… whatever it was. ‘Should we stop them?’

Neloth looked to her as if she had just personally offended him. “Certainly not! Doing so would interfere with whatever is going on, and I would be unable to see how this all turns out!” He exclaimed.

He had a point, though Casil wasn’t sure if anybody really wanted … whatever this thing was going to do. She folded her arms, a clear sign she had nothing more to say on the matter. She felt uneasy. She clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth, before moving back towards town.

“So, what now?” Sterlas asked as they made their way back into the city.

‘I’m going to search around town for information and maps. We can try to get to that temple tomorrow. I don’t want to start looking now in a place none of us are familiar with,’ Casil signed.

“Good plan. Is there anything we may assist you with?” Jenassa asked.

“Normal supplies. Take what you can get. It doesn’t look like this place gets a lot of visitors or trade, so if the prices are too high so be it. I’ll get us a place to stay at the inn. We can meet back up there tonight.’

Sterlas and Jenassa nodded their heads, before dismissing themselves. Casil let out a long sigh once they were gone. How things kept taking worse and worse turns, she did not know.

 

How could a dead man send a cult after her? She dug around for books in one of the shops, brow furrowed hard. She was getting the sinking feeling that this was turning into one of those instances where someone uses a dead man’s name to rile up a cult for their own power. But still, what she did know sounded… too off for that. They were expecting a return and she had been targeted, so clearly whoever this was felt threatened by her. If they were a dragonborn then she would have to get them, whoever they might be. They were probably the only hope left, a thought which made Casil feel like the lowest garbage in Tamriel. And there was the Earth Stone, and the townspeople that had swarmed around it to build… whatever it was they were building. The Northern Maiden’s captain was right. Something strange was going on here. Of all times something picked to be confusing and convoluted it was  _now._ Casil half expected for Alduin to just kill all of them in the middle of looking for whoever this was. How much time did they even have left? Especially now that Alduin knew she had Dragonrend? She shivered.

 

Time was running out, and fast.

 

_Here in my temple, here in my shrine, that you have forgotten._

“Casil!? Casil!”

 

_Here do you toil, that you might remember. Here you reclaim, what faithless minds have stolen._

 

“Casil! Wake up!”

 

_Far from yourself, I grow ever nearer to you. Your eyes once were blinded, now through me do you see. Your hands once were idle, now through them do I speak._

 

“C’mon kiddo, don’t walk out on us now-”

 

_And when the world shall listen-_

 

“Casil, come on!”

 

_And when the world shall see-_

 

“Divines help us. Casil!”

 

_And when the world remembers-_

 

“Snap out of it kid! You can’t give up on us now!”

 

_That world will cease to be._

 

The chisel fell to the ground, clattering loudly against the stone ring. Casil blinked, eyes squinting for a moment at the sudden brightness of the morning sun. Sterlas’s hands gripped her tightly, and it took her a moment to slowly look at the terrified faces of her two companions. Casil furrowed her brow. Where was she…?

Her head was pounding. The woman winced and closed her eyes, dropping the hammer in her other hand so she could place her hands over her face for a moment.

“Oh thank the Divines,” Jenassa exclaimed, letting out a stressed sigh.

Casil finally pulled her hands away to look around. She was at the Earth Stone, and it was morning.

“You with us Casil?” Sterlas asked, moving to stand in front of her before looking her in the eyes firmly.

The bosmer gave a slow nod, clearly bewildered. Why was she at the Earth Stone…?

“What is the last thing you remember?” Sterlas asked. Casil thought for a moment.

‘I had gone to sleep,’ she signed simply. That was it. She had rolled into her furs after marking a route to the temple, and she had drifted off into sleep. Nothing more.

The two companions carefully walked Casil back towards town.

‘What happened…?’ she asked, in a daze.

“We woke up and you weren’t in your bed. So we set out to look for you, and found you at that Earth Stone,” Jenassa said, concern heavy in her voice. “We’ve been trying since before the sun even rose to snap you out of it.”

Casil pursed her lips tightly. So she had fallen victim to whatever had a hold on most of the town it seemed.

“Do you remember anything?” Sterlas asked.

‘No.’

That was a lie. There was one thing she remembered. A voice. A rolling, echoing voice. Like the trembling of the ground in a earthquake. A low voice that carried a edge of anger to it whilst still sounding sweeter than honey. A mantra, over and over, that she could have listened to for eternity. Words that she now realized were akin to what everyone was chanting. She wondered if she had chanted it too, silently.

Casil swallowed hard. A voice and mantra she could have lost herself to forever.

“You should-” Sterlas began.

‘Pack everything. We’re going to the temple,’ Casil said, determination suddenly returning to her face. She needed to get down to the bottom of this, and fast. She did not give Sterlas or Jenassa time to argue.


	26. XXVI. Where The Lonely Ones Roam

The winds had shifted again, for the worse. Ash drifted down from the sky like snow, and gusts kicked up giant clouds of ash from the ground. The three had purchased goggles and scarves from town for the journey, before setting out to reach Miraak’s temple. The building supposedly was located somewhere towards the heart of the island, which Casil was glad about. Made it a little easier in her opinion.

The trio climbed up the hills of ash, gripping their scarves tightly to keep them from  blowing away in one of the gusts. That side of Solstheim was a disaster. The ash was knee deep in some places, and very few of the trees were alive. Craters and smoldering stones littered the ground, spat all the way from Red Mountain before landing. A myriad of strange insects like Ash Hoppers made any chance they could get to bother the group, often times springing up from their hidden locations under the ash. 

Casil  _ hated  _ it. She could not imagine it getting any worse. The only highlight and redeeming quality of the island she had seen so far were the Netches she’d seen far down the coast from the town. The bosmer hoped she could see one up close later, but for now they had other places to be. 

 

Casil pulled out her map angrily, trying to shield it from the wind so she could see it without it tearing or violently flapping. The trip would be so much easier if the wind just blew any other direction, so she could see their surroundings. 

‘I can’t tell where in Oblivion we even are,’ she signed after angrily folding the map up and putting it back in her bag.

Jenassa hunched down behind a tree, taking some shelter from the weather. “Do we keep going? Or wait for this to pass?” She asked, voice muffled by the scarf. 

Casil threw her arms up in defeat. She didn’t know! She threw her gaze to Sterlas, who had wandered a little ways ahead. She could hardly make the redguard out through the curtains of ash, and he clearly wasn’t paying attention to her. Casil shifted in irritation. She couldn’t whistle at him in this weather either. She clapped her hands and, when he didn’t respond, clapped them louder.

“I don’t think we need the map,” Sterlas said finally, crouching down in front of something. Casil blinked, before wading up after him. Jenassa joined her.

It was hard to see from the ash covering it, but there was no mistaking what it was. The gaping skull of a dragon lay in the ash, worn from years of weathering. Casil went to motion ‘so what’, but Sterlas grabbed her chin and moved her gaze upwards. 

There was another. And another. And another…

Casil stood slowly, before daring to continue forward. There were more. The ash died down a bit as they neared the top and a different wind kept some of the worst of the ash at bay, and then did Casil see that the graveyard of dragon skeletons stretched from there all the way up to a ancient building. Bones littered the ground, making it difficult to tell where one dragon ended and another started. 

The three wandered towards the temple in silence, unable to take their eyes from the sheer number of bones that scattered the upper part of the small mountain. Archways marked a set of stairways up to the temple, and piles of bones had been shoved to the side to keep it clear. Casil had never seen so many bones in one place, and as a necromancer that was a sickening thought. Dragons. All dragons. There was no denying it: whoever this temple was to was a dragonborn, and an incredibly powerful one at that. 

It struck a chord of fear in Casil’s heart. 

They walked up the stairs, slowly circling the mountain until they reached the top. The sound of chisels and hammers echoed throughout the mountain, and Casil felt her stomach turn. More people were gathered up there, mindlessly working away at the exterior of the temple. Scaffolding towered upwards as people worked, mumbling the mantra under their breaths. 

Casil slowly made her way down to the center of the outer temple, stiff. Sterlas and Jenassa followed close behind, clearly expecting for the woman to just lose it again. Their attention quickly fell on the only other person there who seemed to have a mind of their own.

“You must leave this place! It is not safe here! We must go to the village!” the woman cried, hurrying from person to person. 

Casil glanced at the other two. Did she not realize…?

The woman turned and noticed them, before hurrying over. “You! You are not under something’s control…? Why are you here?” 

Casil raised her hands up as the woman rushed them, and the other took the signal and stepped back.

‘Who are you…?’ Casil asked first, a little weary that the fully armored individual had just charged them. 

Jenassa could tell Casil was a lot more paranoid than usual.

The woman bowed her head in apology. “I am Frea of the Skaal. I am here to either save my people, or avenge them.”

Casil motioned to introduce herself and her companions, before answering Frea’s question. ‘I’m here looking for someone. Who are you… saving them from?’ Casil asked, digging to see if this Frea had any new information.

The Skaal looked at the others, who Casil took to be friends or something similar. “I am unsure. Something has taken control of most of the people in Solstheim. It makes them forget themselves, and work on these horrible creations that corrupt the Stones, the very land itself. My father Storn, our shaman, says Miraak has returned to Solstheim, but that is impossible,” she said, folding her arms uncomfortably. 

Casil’s eyes brightened a bit. ‘Miraak? That’s who i’m looking for. He sent cultists after me to try to kill me,’ she signed.

Frea seemed surprised. “Then you and I both have reasons to see what lies beneath us. Let us go. There is nothing more I can do here,” she said, looking sadly to her fellow villagers. “The Tree Stone and my friends are beyond my help now. We need to find a way into the temple below.”

Casil tried not to show her mild discomfort of being suddenly dragged into this woman’s problems, but she seemed to know more about what was going on then Casil did and shared a similar goal. Casil just gave an awkward nod of her head, wondering if Frea had not noticed the path that spiraled downwards in the middle of the temple. The sudden sound of a gate sliding open answered her question though. Frea hadn’t been able to get in before simply because the main entry had been sealed off. Fire lit up in Casil’s hands, stepping back from the ramp as a pair of cultists charged up out of the inner temple. 

“You will be an offering to the Master!” 

Casil unleashed a fireball, but it was deflected by one of the cultist’s wards. Casil winced as they retaliated with their own fire, hitting her in the shoulder. Frea drew her sword, rushing the other cultist before locking blades with them. The cultist before Casil raised a hand to fire another attack, before staggering back in surprise. A arrow jutted out of his chest, and a second well-placed shot took him to his knees. Jenassa lowered her bow once it was clear that Frea had her fight handled. 

“Let’s get going,” she said, moving forward. Casil gave a nod of thanks to the dunmer, before the four hurried down the ramp to the inside of the temple.

‘What do you know about Miraak?’ Casil asked as the ramp circled a few times before they could reach the door.

Frea glanced back from her place at the head of the team. “His story is as old as Solstheim itself,” she began, pushing the doors to the inner temple open. She peered inside, making sure it was clear before she continued. “He served the dragons before their fall from power, as most did. A priest in their order.”

The group edged forward, carefully checking in the first few rooms for supplies. 

“But, unlike most, he turned against them. He made his own path, and his actions cost him dearly. The stories say he sought to claim Solstheim for himself, and the dragons destroyed him for it.”

Casil nodded slightly, lips pursed. The sound of voices up ahead caused the Skaal to pause, but Jenassa merely motioned for Frea to move from in front of her. She raised her bow, taking aim for the pair of cultists to round the corner. She let her arrow fly, taking out the first one. Casil ducked around Jenassa’s side to hit the second. Frea gave them a impressed look, before pushing forward.

“We must be careful in these ruins. Traps can be anywhere, and there will likely be many. Miraak was trying to take power here, and protect himself in the process,” Frea warned, dropping her voice in case other cultists were nearby. There was a few moments of silence as the group skirted down the halls, checking the rooms as they passed. “So, Miraak is after you?” Frea finally asked, glancing back at the tiny bosmer. 

Casil nodded. ‘The cultists called me the false Dragonborn.’

Frea halted abruptly, causing Jenassa to bump into her back with a grunt. Frea raised a hand to the dunmer in apology, before giving Casil a look of amazement. “You are dragonborn? That must mean that you can use the voice of the dragons!” She exclaimed.

Casil made a face, giving a guilty shrug and shake of her head. She motioned to her throat simply, feeling the guilt and frustration well up in here again. That was the reason she was even on that Divines forsaken island.

Frea blinked, before frowning. “The All-Maker surely has a reason for all of this, then,” she said, looking back down the hall. Casil wondered if she was aware of what was going on to any agree, and if she understood the threat to the world that came with Casil’s inability to shout. 

Casil did not get much time to dwell on the thought before they came into a larger and open room. Cages hung from the ceiling, and a few cages that surrounded the pathways were littered with skeletons. Shackles lined the pillars and a multitude of tables lay scattered across the rest of the empty space. A platform rose up over it all, on top of which sat a throne. Casil let the fires reignite in her hands, looking over the dead cautiously.

“I do not wish to imagine what kinds of things happened in this chamber,” Frea muttered, eyeing a large spiral staircase that took up the majority of the center of the room. “Who were the poor souls trapped in these cages? What tortures did they suffer at Miraak’s hands? Was it in service to the dragons, or for his own purposes…?”

Casil made no response, though she could tell Sterlas was giving her a worried look. 

She was losing hope about this working out. The further they went and the more they learned about Miraak, the more she feared for the worse. If what was being said was correct, then Miraak was not a kind or caring soul. He was a cruel, power-hungry madman and Casil wasn’t sure if someone like that could be reasoned with. She kept holding onto the Dragonrend shout as leverage, but the sinking feeling in her stomach told her that it might not be enough. And even if it saved her long enough to get him out, then what? Once he knew it, what use would she have then? She doubted a man who had decorated his temple with the bones of his slain and sent cultists after her would let her live longer than she was needed. What was she releasing on the world anyways? Casil nervously played with her ring, hanging back as her companions took care of another set of Cultists who had caught them going down the stairs. There was too much she didn’t know and too much she couldn’t control. She hated it.

The stairs lead to a half collapsed tunnel, which in turn lead to a long hallway of swinging blades. “I am not going down there. It would be foolish of me to attempt it. You have a much better chance than I to make it through these traps. I have no doubt that lever turns these blades off,” Frea said, motioning to a vague lever shape at the far end of the hall.

Casil watched the blades swing. There were 5 segments of the hall, each adorn with swinging blades. She let out a long, frustrated sigh.

“I can try to go down there if you want me to,” Sterlas offered. Casil raised a hand. Oh no. She was tired of people doing things for her. She watched the blades swing a few times, feeling their tempo, before she made a mad dash. 

It was not the first time she’d run through traps like that, and probably wouldn’t be the last. But she hated it all the same. The sound of the blades sliding against their gears, the cutting of the wind as the whizzed by, the momentum that almost pulled her into them. She could feel one of the blades clip her shawl.

Jenassa, Sterlas and Frea watched from the start, tense as they watched Casil make her way down the hall. She slid to a stop suddenly, noticing some of the blades had been offset just enough from the others that it had almost gotten her. She nervously swayed back and forth, waiting to understand the movement of the next few sets before she made another dash to get through them. It was too hasty. Casil managed to pull herself out of the way of the brunt of the blade at the end, but it still managed to take a decent gash into her leg. She stumbled and fell, wincing in pain before grabbing her leg. 

“Casil!” Sterlas shouted. “Are you alright?”

Casil leaned over her wound, trying to heal it a bit with some of her magicka before she pulled herself to the lever. The blades swung back into the ceiling and stopped, giving the other three a chance to run down. Casil cursed to herself, trying to heal more of her wound. She didn’t have a infinite amount of mana- unlike most mages, she could not regenerate it as easily on her own. It came with the Sign of the Atronach. 

Jenassa knelt down beside the bosmer, quickly pulling bandages out to fix up the rest of the wound. It hurt, but she wouldn’t bleed out now. It would have to do. 

“Thank you,” Frea said while Jenassa worked, crouching down next to Casil.

Casil waved a hand, dismissing the thanks. She would be able to walk, and she was blaming herself for being too hasty.

“Miraak took great pains to make it difficult to reach him, it seems,” Frea grunted, standing back up again. “Let us hope that is the last of these traps.”

“I second that thought,” Sterlas grunted, leaning up against the door to the next room. He pressed his ear against it, listening for any obvious signs of Cultists.

Jenassa packed up her bag again when Casil’s leg was sufficiently bandaged, helping the girl to her feet before they turned to face the door.

“Hear anything?” Jenassa asked. Sterlas shook his head, before pushing the door open. 

A sanctum.  Three sets of stairs lead up the a hill, adorned by archways and, at the very center, some sort of sculpture that seemed to be made out of the wing bones of dragons. They proceeded forward with caution. 

“I do not know what it is Miraak learned that gave him reason to turn on his masters,” Frea said lowly, holding her sword up in anticipation for an attack, “But his path seems to be a cruel one. I wonder if we will find some answers to what happened so long ago.” 

Casil swallowed hard. She wasn’t going to make it out of this, was she? 

Sterlas held up a hand for everyone to stop, clearly listening. “Undead,” he said, motioning to the area past the top of the hill. 

Casil took a deep breath and nodded, before scurrying up the hill as quietly as she could. She took shelter behind a pillar, counting out the skeletons and draugr in the next room before she unleashed a fury of fire. A few survived the initial onslaught, but her companions followed up behind her and charged before they had much time to react. They pushed the doors open to the next room to find another tunnel and staircase leading further down.

“How much deeper can this be? I had been told that Miraak’s power was great, but to have built so large a temple… it cannot be much further now. I feel it in my bones,” Frea whispered, hurrying ahead. She was right. The next door opened upon a rather tight chamber, with one wall lined with sarcophagi, and the other with another door. A word wall made up the backmost wall, above which hung a dragon skeleton. A draugr sat in a stone chair, unmoving.

“I had heard Miraak had turned against the Dragon Cult, but to display the remains in such a manner as this… It is no wonder the dragons razed his temple to the ground. Seeing the remains hung up like trophies must have enraged them to no end,” Frea said.

“I wouldn’t blame them either,” Sterlas muttered. He’d seen what the Silver Hands did to werewolves. It made him sick.

Casil pushed past the two, charging a fireball between her hands before lobbing it at the draugr. The creature hissed, before slouching out of its chair.

Frea jumped back, looking at Casil. “How did you know?”

‘You expect it after awhile,’ Casil replied simply. Years of looting tombs made her assume that most every undead in odd places was probably going to get up and attack you. She scooted to the edge of the wall, making a motion to the coffins. Frea, Sterlas and Jenassa made their moves to the sarcophagi. The stone structures shook, their lids falling open. Before their contents could move far, they had been dispatched. 

The next room was a dining room, and nothing more. Frea furrowed her brow. “This.. this can’t be the end. Did we miss a path…?”

“No, not that I saw,” Jenassa replied, looking around the room in equal confusion. 

“There must be something else to this place…” 

Casil surveyed the room herself, before noticing a small window covered with wooden grating she’d seen in other nordic ruins. She glanced at the others as they searched the room, making her way back into what looked like the kitchen. She squirmed her way to the small alcove where the window was, and sure enough a handle rested on a metal pedestal. She gave it a pull, and a grinding noise in the other room notified her that a hidden door had slid open. 

“Leave Casil to find it,” Sterlas said with a grin, letting Frea and Jenassa follow the path first. He waited for Casil to go next, before following her.

The tunnel behind the hidden stone door was a tunnel and nothing more. It had been dug out and hastily supported with wood beams, and contained no other adornments. It was just high enough for the average person to stand in, which meant Sterlas had to lean over a bit so he wouldn’t hit his head against the ceiling or the beams. 

“It is… eerily quiet. I do not suspect that will be the case the further we go. Be on your guard,” Frea said, avoiding a large spiderweb that was connected between some of the beams.

Casil pursed her lips. She didn’t think Miraak was actually…  _ down there.  _ It seemed wrong, off. It was not going to be that easy.

The tunnel continued, winding further and further down. The air was stale, musty, and Casil lit a magelight so they wouldn’t have to light a torch. This tunnel had not been touched in a very, very long time. Finally, the tunnel lead down to a door. Frea slowed before it, before carefully opening it up. The iron doors swung open, revealing a room that did not match any of the previous ones. It was a circular room, with a weblike grate over the center of what Casil could only assume was water. A maw-like statue hung above a pedestal, on which lay a book. A faint glow drifted down from somewhere disconcerted above the room, casting ominous shadows onto the ground.

Frea stepped to the side, looking over the room suspiciously. Jenassa did the same, allowing Casil to pass.

Casil slowed halfway to the book when she could see it better. No title marked what it could be on the cover or on the spine. It was black, with a rough texture that did not belong on books. A glowing green emblem of some sort of unknown monster embellished the front, and that was all.

Frea watched as Casil took a few more uneasy steps towards it. “There are dark magics at work here. Ready yourself. This book… it seems wrong. Here, yet… not. It may be what we seek,” she warned, keeping her sword readied. 

Casil looked back at Sterlas and Jenassa, before she cautiously picked the book up. Yes, something was wrong about this book. She took a deep breath, before she opened it up.

“ _ Waking Dreams. _

_ The eyes, once bleached by falling stars of utmost revelation, will forever see the faint insight drawn by the overwhelming questions, as only the True Enquiry shapes the edge of thought. The rest is vulgar fiction, attempts to impose order on the consensus mantlings of an uncaring godhead, First…” _

Casil could see runes slowly peel off from the pages, spiraling upwards. Her eyes drifted from the words to watch them, holding her breath. Suddenly, they solidified into long, slimy tendrils that wrapped around her throat before she could react. The world felt like it was being sucked downwards, and she blacked out.

 

Casil came to a split moment later, feeling her head spin and her stomach lurch. She squinted her eyes, trying to adjust to what was before her. The first sound that came to her ears was the heavy wingbeat of a dragon, one unlike she had seen prior. It was a blue-ish color, with a row of fins down its back and a huge, toothy underbite. It landed, kicking up a cloud of dust around it before it turned its head to look at the figure before it.

A man, Casil assumed, in black robes. Gold adorned the edges of the outfit, along with gold pauldrons and gloves in the hallmark style of the Dragon Priests. A otherworldly green sword hung on his belt, and at either side four amorphous creatures made of tentacles and layers of cloth floated in guard. The man made a motion to move, before he noticed Casil. He whirled around, nailing her with a spell before she had the chance to react.

Casil let out a gasp of pain, falling to her knees as paralysis and electricity ripped through her body. Metal boots clanked against the ground as the figure approached, coming to stop a few feet in front of her. Casil raised her head enough to meet the empty gaze of a mask.

“Who are you to dare set foot here?” Miraak snapped, voice resounding through the plane. He paused for a moment, before letting out a low chuckle. “Ahh… you are Dragonborn. I can feel it. And yet… despite the dragons you have defeated, you have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield!” 

Casil struggled, teeth gritting tightly. She had to speak to him, she had to do something!

“Mul.. Qah Diiv!” Casil could feel the energy of the shout, and it was apparent on Miraak. Energy ripped around his form, resembling glowing orange-blue horns and scales. The energy hissed, radiating an incredible amount of power. Miraak towered over her, his pose reeking of pride. “This realm is beyond you. You have no power here, and it is only a matter of time before Solstheim is also mine. I already control the minds of its people. Soon, they will finish building my temple, and I can return home.” 

He turned with a swing of his shoulder, almost  _ strutting  _ away towards the dragon. Casil tried her hardest to move. Something, anything. She had to talk to him. Her limbs trembled, but nothing happened.

“Send her back where she came from. She can await my arrival with the rest of Tamriel,” Miraak said, climbing onto the dragon’s neck before it took off.

The creatures turned to face her. A drop of sweat rolled down Casil’s brow as she pushed against the magic. The Seekers wasted no time in releasing blast after blast of magic, and in no time the world spun and fell black again.


	27. XXVII. Can You Feel My Heart

“What happened to you? You read the book and then… it seemed as though you were not really here. I could see you, but also see through you!”

The world came rushing back around Casil, and she staggered a bit. Sterlas immediately was there to support her. The bosmer looked at the book with wide eyes, before looking to Frea. She managed a slight shrug and shake of the head. She didn’t  _ know  _ what had just happened. Jenassa carefully took the book from the shaking woman’s hands, moving to put it in her bag.

“Are you alright?” Jenassa asked. Casil nodded, finally raising her hands to speak.

‘I saw Miraak.’

There was not one person in the room who wasn’t surprised. Frea rushed in front of her, only being kept back from nearly smothering the elf by Jenassa.

“Where? Where is he? Can we reach him? Can we kill him?” She asked quickly, eyes burning with determination.

Casil shook her head again, motioning to the book slightly with a hand. ‘The book took me to him. I don’t know where he was, though.’

Sterlas let out a low hum. “Don’t touch that thing then until we know what it is,” he warned. Casil gaved a numb nod, letting out an exhale.

“We should return to my village, and show it to my father. Perhaps Storn can make sense of what is going on,” Frea suggested. Jenassa and Sterlas awaited Casil’s response. The woman gave a nod after a few minutes of shaking. Maybe someone else could understand this.

 

The Skaal village was incredibly far from the temple, which Casil was thankful for. She was also Thankful that the village lay on the other side of the island, and seemed to be relatively ash-free. In fact, Casil would dare say it was a lot like Skyrim. Cold, snowy, mountainous. Frea lead the way to her village down a cold path, keeping her pace slow enough so the still in shock dragonborn could keep up. 

“You see that green light?” Frea said at one point as they stood on the edge of a cliff, beside a crashing waterfall, “That comes from the Wind Stone, where my people work against their will. They must be freed soon.”

Casil pursed her lips, looking at the light as it faded up into the sky. She was walking in very dangerous territory now, on a very brittle surface. There were many ways for this to go wrong, if she did not make the right choices. Casil cursed the Divines for it.

 

The village was quaint. Wood lodges had been built in a large circle, with a shack in the center for curing meat as well as various other important community resources. But it was empty, beyond three men who sat in meditation in a circle at the far end of the town. A sort of light hazily drifted around them. Frea picked up her pace when they made it into town, rushing to Storn.

“Father! I have returned! There is yet hope!” She exclaimed. 

Storn opened an eye, turning to look at Frea. “Frea! What news do you bring? Is there way to free our people?” He asked, still holding his concentration on what Casil assumed was some sort of spell.

Sterlas and Jenassa stopped a few feet away, hanging back while Frea did the talking. Casil leaned on Sterlas, lost in thought.

Frea shook her head sorrowfully. “No, but I have brought someone who has seen things…” She turned to look at Casil. Storn followed her gaze. “She has confirmed that Miraak is indeed behind the suffering of our people.”

Casil lifted her gaze from the snow to the shaman, but the elderly man did not immediately talk to her.

“I feared that it would be so,” Storn said, closing his eyes before shifting.

“But how is that possible? After all this time…” Frea began.

“I fear there is too much that we do not yet know,” Storn said gruffly.

Frea turned to look at Casil. “Please, tell Storn what has happened!”

Casil let out an a stressed exhale, causing a cloud of mist to form in front of her face. She nodded, taking a few steps forward.

Frea sat down next to Storn, moving to meditate and hold up the barrier while Storn focused his attention on Casil.

“So, you have seen things, yes? My magic grows weak, and so does the barrier around our village.  Time is short. Tell me what you know,” he said gravely.

Yes, time was short. Casil wasn’t sure if he understood how right he was by saying that. Casil motioned to Jenassa to show him the Black Book while she signed.

‘We found this in the Temple of Miraak. I… opened it, and something pulled me in. I don’t know where he was, but I saw Miraak. It had to be Miraak,’ Casil signed, brow furrowed. Sterlas repeated for her.

The news was clearly troubling to Storn. “The legends speak of that place. Terrible battles fought at the temple. The dragons burning it to the ground. They speak also of something worse than dragons buried within. Difficult to imagine, but if true… It means what I feared has come to pass. Miraak was never truly gone, and now has returned. If you could go to this place and see him…” Storn’s eyes focused on Casil, giving her a steely gaze. “Are you like Miraak? Are you Dragonborn?”

Casil felt her stomach twist. ‘Miraak claimed to be Dragonborn.’

Sterlas paused in repeating her words. She was averting the question, even though Frea knew. The pause in translation made Storn raise an eyebrow.

“That is what the stories say. You are Dragonborn as well, then,” he said simply, leaning back. 

Casil let out another stressed exhale.

“Perhaps you are connected.”

‘Connected? What do you mean by that?’ 

“I am unsure,” he said, puzzled. “It may mean that you could save us, or,” he shifted tiredly, “it may mean that you could bring about our destruction. But our time here is running out. The few of us left free of control cannot protect ourselves for much longer. You must go to Saering’s Watch. Learn there the word that Miraak learned long ago, and use that knowledge on the Wind Stone. You may be able to break the hold on our people there, and free them from control,” his eyes closed, and he resumed his meditation. “Put an end to this evil magic before it consumes us all.

None of the Skaal spoke anymore. The wind howled softly over the empty rooftops, bringing gently flurries of snow with it. The sun was moving to set overhead, and Casil reached up to hold her arm. She hesitated for a few moments, before turning to walk back through the village. Jenassa and Sterlas followed swiftly after her, the dunmer throwing a few last looks over her shoulder at the small circle of Skaal.

Casil reached into her bag, producing the map of Solstheim from it. She glanced around with the last of the daylight, finding their location before carefully comparing to the handful of locations she had jotted down in town. The village and the watch were both on there, and she gave a little nod to herself.

“You can’t be thinking of trying to make it there before the day is over, can you?” Jenassa asked, following behind Casil as she walked. 

Casil shrugged. ‘He said there was a word there, right? So what difference does it make to me?’ She couldn’t  _ use  _ it. Once they were a short distance from the village, she reached a hand out for the Black Book. 

Jenassa hesitated, and Sterlas gave her a warning glare, but Casil was her benefactor. She handed the bosmer the book and Sterlas groaned. “Be careful with that…” he began.

Casil grabbed the edge of the book, before trying to open it. The book fluttered open, but was empty. She furrowed her brow, flipping through the pages quickly. Nothing. She held it open and just waited for the runes and tentacles to emerge, but nothing happened. Casil silently cursed, slamming the book shut before shoving it into her bag.

‘We need to find another one,’ she signed quickly, grabbing her map again. She scoured the map, thinking. Where could they… She snapped her fingers. The wizard. If anyone on this island knew, it would be him. She spun to Jenassa and Sterlas. ‘Did any of you catch where that wizard lived while you were in town?’

Sterlas shook his head, but Jenassa had a reply. “They said he lives in Tel Mithryn. Here,” she reached to point on the map. “The giant mushrooms.” 

Casil flashed a grin. Perfect. She went to set off, but Sterlas grabbed her. “We’re resting here, you got it? With those Skaal. We all need rest, Casil. And maybe if we hang out close enough to that shaman we won’t end up at those rocks.” 

Casil huffed, but he was right. The three turned back to the village to find a quiet spot to hunker down in until the morning.

 

Casil did not sleep well. She had too much on her mind. She turned in her bedroll, watching the stars and auroras dance overhead.

She was the last Dragonborn. It was her destiny to defeat Alduin, and stop him from ending the world. People had tried to stop him before, and had only managed to send Alduin forward in time. Thanks, she thought bitterly. Hakon, the others… they just shrugged off their problems onto her. She was supposed to be able to shout. Being a Dragonborn entailed absorbing dragon souls and being able to master shouts with ease. And here she was, mute. Unable to use shouts. She felt she understood them, she felt the power, and she could not use them. Alduin apparently could not be defeated by normal means. Mortals had made a shout specifically to bring him down, and without that it sounded like all would be lost. She couldn’t use it. She sailed all the way out to a island that wasn’t even apart of Skyrim anymore to find the one last possibly dragonborn who could learn the shout before Alduin consumed the world. And this dragonborn was a horrid monster. Arrogant, cruel, selfish, and locked away Oblivion knew where while using Solstheim to come back from… wherever it was that he was trapped. He didn’t need her. She couldn’t stop whatever was going on at the rocks either, since apparently that needed a shout too. She had gotten so far, and now she had to stoop to find a way to jailbreak some sort of tyrant dragonborn from his prison somewhere far from there, to teach him a shout that could bring down the great World-Eater himself. The number of ways it could go wrong was mind numbing. She had no way to stop or control Miraak once he got out, let alone after he had gotten the one piece of information she had that she figured might,  _ might,  _ keep her alive. Once that was gone, she was at the mercy of a man who had strung up his former masters as trophies and had earned the name ‘The Traitor’ by the Skaal. 

Casil reached her hands up to rub her eyes. She was going to have to rely on every bit of cunning and wisdom she had to make it through this alive. Her hands fell to her sides again, listening to the sound of the wind. Why had the Divines let this happen…? What kind of twisted test was this? Did they  _ want  _ the world to be devoured? Casil sure felt like they did.

The woman curled up under the bedroll, letting out a long exhale. She had to keep going. What other choice did she have?


	28. XXVIII. Twin Skeletons

Casil had thought the mushrooms in Blackreach were big, but the mushrooms that grew around Tel Mithryn were far bigger. Jenassa explained, on their way towards the biggest of the mushrooms, that the art of growing giant mushroom houses came from the Telvanni and the Vvardenfell in Morrowind. Casil admired them. It was an incredible feat in her opinion, and maybe she enjoyed it from a Bosmer perspective. 

Three great mushrooms collected together at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the sea, each with a door built into the front of them. Two dunmer stood outside in the small courtyard-like opening at the center of the mushrooms, holding some intense conversation between each other as Casil, Jenassa and Sterlas walked by. Neither of the two paid them any mind, which was fine with Casil. She made her way to the middle mushroom, walking up the pathway that winded up to the door. With a sigh of relief, she managed to open the door without any troubles. He must be in. Immediately inside was a sparkling blue circle that radiated power, causing her hair and shawl to lazily drift upwards when she leaned over it. She craned her head back, noting that the actual house itself lay far above them. 

“What is this…” Sterlas questioned, eyeing the magic circle uneasily. Casil beckoned him to follow, before stepping into the circle.

Slowly, she was lifted upwards. She grinned down at her companions, leaning back as she was pulled upwards. She drifted up to the small outcropping at the top, before being gently settled on the ledge.

Neloth’s study was a clutter of all things arcane. Tables were scattered with soul gems, regents, gemstones, dwemer scraps and more. Books piled at the edges of tables and on bookshelves, and Casil could spot a enchanting table, a alchemy lab and even a staff enchanter. Casil was amazed so much could be built inside of a mushroom. She stepped away from the edge so Sterlas and Jenassa could get up there, before her gaze fell on the wizard.

Neloth glanced up from his work at one of the far tables, eyebrow raised. “Can I help you?” he asked, sounding more annoyed than anything.

Casil waited to make sure Sterlas had made it up before she replied. ‘I need to know where I might be able to find a Black Book. I figured you would be the best start.’

The Telvanni wizard look mildly surprised. He pushed his work off to the side, turning to face Casil before leaning back against the table.

“You refer to those tomes of esoteric knowledged that old Hermaeus Mora has scattered throughout the world? What could you know of them?”

Casil tried not to take a sharp intake of breath. That was what she had been afraid of. She pursed her lips. ‘I found one,’ she began, taking it out and setting it on a nearby table. ‘I need to find more.’

Neloth peered at the book. “Found one? Yes,” his gaze returned to Casil, “and you read it too, didn’t you? Don’t try to deny it, you’ve got the look. I can see it now. Dangerous knowledge is still knowledge and therefore useful. Usually turns out to be the most useful, in my experience,” the dunmer mused, folding his arms across his chest before tilting his head. “Now, as to  _ why  _ you need another one of these books…”

‘I need to get to Miraak, and I need to know what he knows if i’m going to intercept him,’ Casil signed, trying to seem brave.

Neloth gave her a smirk. “Now that is a dangerous path indeed. Hermaeus Mora gives nothing away for free. You may end up like Miraak, of course. Two power-mad Dragonborn. It could be very interesting,” he mused, eyeing the girl.

She swallowed hard. Still was getting worse. How could it keep getting worse?

“So do you know where to find one old man, or not?” Sterlas snapped, folding his own arms. “Times a bit short here on this.”

The dark elf shot Sterlas a glance, before he pushed himself from his resting spot. “Oh, yes. They’re not hard to locate once you know how to look for them. I have one here that I have been using to locate more.”

Casil’s eyes went wide. ‘You have a Black Book?’

Neloth moved to pace past the party. “Yes, I haven’t been idle while this fascinating madness engulfed Solstheim. But my book isn’t what you’re looking for,” he interjected quickly, stopping in front of Casil. Any look of hope seemed to be quickly dashed from her face. “I’m quite sure it’s unconnected with this Miraak. But I do know where to find a Black Book that  _ can  _ help you.”

A bit of hope returned to Casil’s face. ‘So you know where to find it?’

“Yes, I do. I haven’t been able to get to it, though. But maybe together we can unlock the secrets the Dwemer left behind,” he offered, sweeping an arm towards them.

‘The Dwemer? What do they have to do with this?’ Casil asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Forbidden knowledge was somewhat of a specialty of the dwarves, eh? You don’t think they would just leave it alone, do you?” He asked, turning to walk towards a small fenced off section of the room. He produced a key and unlocked it. “It seems the ancient Dwemer discovered this book and took it to study. I have found their ‘reading room’ in the ruins of Nchardak. The book is there, but it’s sealed in a protective case which I wasn’t able to open.” The wizard opened a chest, pulling something out and shoving it into a jacket pocket before he closed the chest and gate again. He looked to the three. “But perhaps the four of us together will be able to get the book. To Nchardak, then,” he stated, not bothering to ask them if they were ready or anything. “Follow me.”

Neloth waltzed past Casil, Jenassa and Sterlas to the outcropping, before gracefully floating back downstairs.

“Are we really doing this-” Sterlas began, but Casil was already following after Neloth.

‘We don’t really have a choice, Sterlas,’ Casil said as she floated down, looking up at the werewolf. 

Sterlas sighed, rubbing his face. “More of this Dwemer shit,” he grunted, before tagging along after.

The four met up in the ashen courtyard, before Neloth motioned for them to follow. Casil had to pick up her pace to match the dunmer’s long strides. Casil was relieved to find that the ruins weren’t too terribly far away. 

“The Dwemer certainly knew how to build for the ages,” Neloth remarked once the first of the ruin’s stones came into view. “These towers have outlasted their creators by millenia. The book is housed inside that dome,” he continued, motioning to the hazy shape of one of the buildings. Nchardak, to Casil’s surprise, was built out  _ in the water.  _ The haze from the ocean drifted lazily over the buildings that breached the surface, making it hard for her to make out details of the place from the shore. “I’ll need to unlock the door for us to get in. Let’s get on with it.”

Sterlas suddenly sniffed, brow furrowed. “We’ve got company,” he noted. Shapes moved on the ruins with a sudden murmur of voices.

“Reavers,” Jenassa muttered. The group had managed to skirt several groups of the Solsheim bandits before, but none were surprised that a group had staked out camp on the ruins.

“I had to clean out the riff-raff last time I was here, too. Where do they come from?” Neloth cried in irritation. Lightning crackled in his hands. “Let’s get this over with,” he grunted. 

A arrow flew out of the mist, narrowly missing the dunmer mage. Fire lit up in Casil’s hands as well, and she took cover behind a tree when a few more arrows rained down. Jenassa blocked one with her arm, drawing her sword before rushing at the reavers with a battle cry. Sterlas followed after her, bursting into werewolf form. He didn’t have time for the axe. Neloth was surprised needless to say when a brown mass of fur blitzed by.

“He’s on our side!” Jenassa called before the wizard tried to fry the wolf. Neloth shot the fellow dark elf a look, before rolling his eyes. 

“You are certainly turning out to be a… interesting group,” he commented, summoning up a ash guardian. 

The party pushed forward. Casil used the crumbled ruins as cover, trying to skirt the edges of the precarious stone pathways to avoid being knocked into the water. She peered out from behind a wall, lobbing a fireball at a reaver. They staggered back, before returning fire with a arrow. Casil withdrew back behind the wall, the arrow ricocheting off of the stone. She felt stupid having fire as her main element when she was fighting strictly dunmer. The fire-resistant bastards. There was the exchange of loud thunder, and Casil threw a look around the wall again. She could make out Neloth on one of the bridges, hurling another spell to the building they needed to enter. A reaver lord deflected some of the attack with a ward, summoning a flame atronach at the same time. Of course. Jenassa was locked in combat with another reaver a few feet ahead, and Sterlas seemed to be trying to find a way over to the reaver lord. Casil threw another fireball at the dunmer who had shot at her before, managing to knock him back off the platform before she darted out to the opposing platform from Neloth. Fire crackled between her hands, before she hurled it at the distracted enemy. The fire exploded over their thick carapace armor, causing them to stagger forward in surprise. They whirled to look at Casil, leaving them open to attack from Neloth. The master wizard’s lightning bolt struck with ferocity, sending the man back and onto the ground. Sterlas took the chance to leap over to the platform, digging his claws into the rock to climb up them before he made sure the lord was good as dead. 

Casil glanced back at Jenassa, but the woman had already finished off the last reaver. She gave a nod of her head to the mercenary, before moving to meet the wizard in front of the door. 

Neloth reached into his jacket, eyeing Sterlas as he did so. The werewolf’s ears perked forward, before he gave a sort of sneer. Neloth grunted, before pulling out a cube. “The Dwemer of Nchardak appear to have been fond of these control pedestals,” Neloth stated, setting the cube into a holder akin to the one Casil had used for the lexicon in Blackreach. The machine shook a bit, causing a clicking noise in the cube, before the sound of the doors unlocking could be heard. “Luckily, I found a cube to operate it inside on my last visit. I sealed the doors when I left to keep out ignorant meddlers.” He picked up the cube, returning it to his pocket before pushing the doors open.

“Not a bad plan,” Jenassa commented, glancing at the dead body of the reaver lord as she passed.

The four stepped inside of the chamber. It was a spacy room, with a smooth floor that contained a large gold ring, then a slab of glass. Under the glass was none other than the Black Book. Casil quickly trotted over to it, kneeling so she could look at the tome.

“You can see the book is right there. So tantalizingly close… but trust me, no magic will open that. I’d have the book already if I could. No, we’ll have to do this the hard way…” Neloth began to explain, before pausing.

Casil had pulled the pickaxe off her belt, getting to her feet before taking a few steps back. She raised the pickaxe over her head, before swinging down onto the glass as hard as she could. The tool pinged off of the smooth surface with no ill effect. Casil narrowed her eyes, bringing it up so she could hit it again. Again, nothing. Casil’s cheeks puffed up in irritation, before she turned to just hitting it as quickly and as hard as she could.

Neloth pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, before shaking his head and continuing with what he had been saying. “If we can restore the steam supply to this room, I’m certain I can open it. As you’ll see, that’s easier said than done. This way to the boilers,” he said with a exasperated sigh, turning to open another door.

Casil continued to hit at the glass until Sterlas lazily wandered over and picked her up, dragging her away from the glass and into the next room.

They followed the wizard down a handful of halls, clearly descending further and further down. Sterlas growled, displeased with this. 

“Last time I was here, I only explored a small part of the ruins. I was here alone then, and I find an assistant is absolutely essential for this kind of dirty work,” Neloth explained as they walked. 

Casil narrowed her eyes at master wizard. ‘Assistant my ass,’ she signed to Sterlas as he dragged her along. Finally the group rounded a corner, and the tunnel opened up into a giant stone room that contained a good number of smaller buildings from what Casil could see.

“Nchardak, the ‘City of a Hundred Towers’,” Neloth exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the side in presentation. “In its day it was the largest of the great Dwemer Archives and perhaps the most advanced. In the old stories, when the Nords came to conquer it, it’s said the Dwemer submerged the city beneath the sea until the invaders gave up. I have my doubts. But, the city was a marvel of Dwemer engineering. Now reduced to this.” 

Neloth came to a stop in front of two more pedestals, waving an arm before him. Casil squirmed out of Sterlas’s grasp, walking over to see what the wizard was talking about. Water. The water started a few feet below the platform they stood on, and submerged everything else in sight. Casil let out a long sigh.

“As you can see, most of the lower levels of the city are flooded. But it isn’t hopeless - the old Dwemer pumps still seem to work. Watch,” he set the cube into one of the pedestals, which was blue instead of red as the previous ones had been. 

The room shook, and the sound of machinery roaring to life echoed through the cavern. Sterlas pinned his ears back against his head. There was a sudden sucking noise, and the water level began to lower. It dropped a good ten feet, before stopping again. Another platform with four red pedestals at the base of four pumps became revealed. 

“The pumps only operate when a cube is in the pedestal. And unfortunately, I have only one cube. These four boilers provide steam to the room upstairs. They’re shut down, but they still respond to the control cubes. So, if we can find four more cubes, we can turn these boilers back on and restore steam power to the room upstairs. Then I should be able to open the book’s protective case,” Neloth explained, turning to walk back the direction they had come.

Casil reached out and pulled the cube out of the grasp of little metal hands, and the water level began to rise again. She trotted after Neloth, inspecting the cube as she did so.

“Do you have any idea where the other cubes are?” Jenassa asked, trailing behind Casil in case she really wasn’t paying attention.

The wizard motioned to a large stone slab that lay a few feet  back from the pumps. He scratched his beard, before nodding. “Yes… here we are. This device shows the locations of four more cubes in this section of the city. It looks like most of the cubes were moved to lower levels, perhaps to try to control the flooding before the city was abandoned. Interesting. That would suggest that the city must have originally sunk during the first cataclysm of Red Mountain. Or,” he gave a shrug, “that the Dwemer’s servitors continued to try to preserve the city after their creators’ disappearance.”

Casil looked up from the cube, eyeing the map. It made no sense to her, so she huffed in irritation. She would take Neloth’s word for it.

‘Let’s get to work then,’ Casil signed.


	29. XXIX. Young Blood

The idea of being trapped in a building had been underwater a few minutes prior and was only staying dry thanks to a few millennia-old machines she didn’t understand was  _ unnerving.  _ Water dripped down from the ceiling, algae and other water plants now dangling.

The party had made their way down to the Workshops once they had found a cube higher up, and after clearing the area out of automatons they had gathered their next cube. 

“Be careful when you remove the cube,” Neloth warned. “Each cube we retrieve shuts down the corresponding pumps, raising the water level.”

Casil would have let out a whine if she could. She was already antsy being down there in the first place. The group had found a passage that lead off to where they thought the next cube might be, but whatever bridge that had been there had long since collapsed… which left one solution.

Casil looked to the group again, making sure everyone was ready before she removed the cube. The sound of the pumps suddenly stopped, and water began to pour back in. Casil did not waste time in booking it up the stairs to the next pedestal they had to leave a cube at, before pulling that one out. Water emptied into the room from the pumps, quickly re-filling it to its previous height. Casil spent the next few minutes as the water levels rose on top of the highest piece of rubble she could find, shrinking back up against the wall in mild fear. Jenassa, Sterlas and Neloth weren’t far from doing the same. Nobody was fond of what was going on, but if they wanted to get the book they had to do it.

Casil let out a sigh of relief when the water finally stopped, just below the edge of the platform and the one they needed to reach. Casil carefully jumped back into the water, swimming over before dragging her already soaking body out of the water again.

“It should be up here,” Neloth remarked after he pulled himself out of the water as well, wringing his scarf out. 

“I sure hope it is,” Jenassa grumbled. She brought a arm up to shield herself from Sterlas as he shook his fur out, though the dunmer wondered why she bothered. They were going to get wet again anyways, no doubt.

Casil pushed the door to the next area open, making her way out onto the platform. Bridges spanned the water that lay below, but no pump was directly in their reach. They spotted one on the far side in a alcove, but with some of the bridges up they could not reach it.

“I think there’s a way to operate the bridges over there,” Jenassa remarked, pointing to a neighboring ledge. Casil nodded, scurrying over before clambering up to it. 

“We will need to have all the bridges down to reach the pump,” Neloth reminded her, putting his hands on his hips.

Casil nodded, wiggling her fingers for a moment as she examined the pedestals she had to work with before she worked her magic. It did not take long for her to get all of the bridges to span the water.

“That’s it! Don’t touch anything else. Quickly now,” Neloth said, quickly crossing the bridges so he could reach the pump. Casil tossed Jenassa a cube before clambering down from the bridge control, giving the dunmer a chance to go over and hand Neloth the cube. The pumps whirled to life when it was put in its place, before the water levels fell again. The water was sucked out, revealing a door a little ways below, and a sea of muck. “I have an idea. I’ll wait here to retrieve this cube once you find the last one we need. Good luck!” Neloth exclaimed, stepping back.

Casil shot him a dirty look. Leaving the hard work to her, of course. She huffed, using the stairs to the side of one of the platforms to descend into the muck. Sterlas followed, nose wrinkling. Casil slowly extended a foot, placing it into the muck. Her foot sunk down to her ankle, and she made a face of disgust. Oh she was going to destroy that wizard. Sterlas grunted, gingerly stepping after Casil as the two waded through years of Divines knew what. Jenassa waited with Neloth, watching as the two below shoved the door open and moved into the next room. Casil was at least glad to see the cube in the next room was not too difficult to reach. She pulled herself out the sludge, walking up the stairs with a waddle before reaching for the cube.

Sterlas gave a growl, and she turned to look back at him. Oh. That was right. This had been underwater. Casil was not looking forward to this. She changed her position, eyeing the door they had come through as she prepared herself to run as quickly as she could. With a deep breath, Casil grabbed the cube and lept off the platform, splashing into the muck before she made a run for the door. The water immediately began to filter back in, and Casil panicked. She slipped in the muck, falling flat on her face. Sterlas bounded after her, scooping her up before the water could rise too much further. He waded through the door, before having to swim. The two managed to get out from under the overhang, before drifting up with the rising water. Casil exhaled, floating on her back.

“Did you get the cube?” Neloth asked. Casil held it up, before resting it on her chest as she slowly drifted through the water. “Wonderful! Then i’ll take this cube and we can be on our way. Watch out, the water’s rising even higher with both pumps shut down,” he warned, before he pulled the cube out. Immediately the water rose again, and Casil finally moved to swim towards the door they had come through. She watched with dismay as it slipped below the water. She took a deep breath, before diving down into the water.

On the plus side, her clothing would at least get a little more cleaned off from the mud. On the downside, she was swimming in an underwater tunnel. The water was murky and tasted metallic, and she wasted no time in swimming as quickly as she could to the other side.

The party pulled themselves back out of the water and dragged themselves up the ramp that lead to the lower sections of the city. Casil pulled her shawl off, wringing it out before she tossed it over one of the pumps to dry.

“We should have enough cubes to get these running now,” Neloth remarked, wringing out his scarf again. 

Sterlas shook himself off, before turning back into a human. “Divines, this place reeks,” he complained immediately. 

“We should be out of here soon,” Jenassa responded, watching Casil as she pulled one of the two cubes out of the topmost pumps. The water rose back up to the very edge of the pump platform, before she made her way down to stick all four cubes into their respective places. The boiler rumbled to life as each was put into their place, and Casil let out a sigh of relief when each one was in its place. She looked to Neloth.

“That seems to have done it. Good. It took longer than I’d hope, but at least it’s finally done-” he paused, before whirling around. “Look out!”

Sterlas managed to tackle Jenassa to the side as a searing blast of steam scorched the area she had been standing in. A centurion slowly rumbled towards the two, raising one of the bladed arms up to swing at them. Casil and Neloth covered the two before they were attacked, unleashing spells at the Centurion to hold it off long enough for the two melee fighters to get up and ready themselves. 

“Shouldn’t have turned back yet,” Sterlas muttered, removing his axe from his back before he took a swing at the centurion. The blade collided with the machine’s leg, cutting into it but not through it. Sterlas winced at the reverberation, before trying to pry the axe back out.

Jenassa bought him a little time by attacking at its flank with her swords, beating into the thick armor. The centurion swung an arm that Jenassa tried to block, but the force sent her back anyways. 

Casil hit the automaton in the face with a fireball, causing it to whir and face her. A blast of hot steam exited from the centurion’s mouth, and Casil quickly jumped out of the way. She winced as she caught the edge of it, but the attack gave Sterlas enough time to shake his axe free. The werewolf stepped back, quickly looking over the robot before he found a place to grab onto. He jumped, latching one hand onto a edge in the armor before he hoisted himself up. The axe slammed into its back, deep enough so he could use it as a hold before he clambered to its head and, with a powerful swing, he decapitated it. The machine lurched and fell over, and Sterlas hopped off of it.

“I swear to the Divines, if we have to deal with more of these damn automatons,” Sterlas growled, moving over to help Jenassa up. 

Casil nodded in agreement, moving to meet her companions.

“I’m going to head back upstairs and see if the reading room has steam. If so, it should be a simple matter to release the book,” Neloth said, passing by the three. Casil took a moment to repair some of Jenassa’s wounds with magic, before they followed after him. Neloth made his way over to the control module of the reading room, fumbling with the device. Casil, Jenassa and Sterlas stood off to the side, waiting. It did not take long for the wizard to open the case. The glass slid back, and the pedestal that held the book raised up. He motioned towards it with a hand. “At last. I hope it was worth it. Please… be my guest,” he offered. “You deserve the first look. Besides, it could be very dangerous. These books are known to drive many people insane.”

Sterlas shot Neloth a dirty look, but Casil walked over to the book as fearlessly as she could. She hesitated, hand hovering over the book for a moment.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Neloth commented idly, folding his arms. “Well, you could have your mind sucked dry by Hermaeus Mora… but that’s supposed to be very rare.”

Casil shot him a glance this time, before she finally picked the book up. With a deep breath, Casil opened the pages. Runes spiraled out, before the tentacles wrapped around her neck once more. 

“Be sure to say hello to Hermaeus Mora for me if you see him.”

The world spun, and everything went black.


	30. XXX. Our Last Hope

She was not in the same place as last time, but she expected that. She closed her eyes until everything stopped spinning, before opening them once more. She was met with a great floating eyeball, surrounded by a bubbling black mass of tentacles and other eyes.

“Well, it seems that you could not avoid me like you had planned,” Hermaeus Mora said in a long, slow drawl. “This is Apocrypha, where all knowledge is hoarded. Sate your thirst for knowledge in the endless stacks of my library. If you tired of the search, read your book again to return to your mortal life. For a time. The lure of Apocrypha will call you back. It is your fate.” The Daedric Prince melted into thin air, leaving Casil alone as suddenly as he had appeared.

Casil did not move for a moment, lips pursed before she finally looked around. 

Apocrypha was… a strange place. The sky glowed a light green, a sort of pulsing of light drifting through it. Towers of books and lace-like structures extended into the sky, and below she could make out a sea of black ooze and tentacles. A breeze blew through from no discernible source, causing whirlwinds of paper to drift by in the strange tunnels and on some of the platforms. 

Casil took another deep breath, before she proceeded forward. Her eyes couldn’t help but wander to the towers and towers of books, scanning the spines as she walked by. There was… so much knowledge here. Desks littered corners with piles and piles of tomes and scrolls. Pages blew across the floor. She could understand how one could get lost in there. Casil was a lover of books and had a good collection of her own, and she could feel the draw to just.... Search. Read. Learn. Take.

She shook her head, descending down a flight of stairs. Odd lights drifted overhead, a few following her as she walked. She could make out the shape of a few of the Seekers on a lower floor, and made a note to try to avoid them. 

Apocrypha was a maze of non-euclidian tunnels and staircases that stretched and warped at their own will. It was no wonder people became trapped or went mad there, between the books and the general geography of the plane. 

She had to find Miraak, but she had no idea  _ how.  _ She wandered through the maze of books, trying her best not to slow down too much to look at them. She did not know how much time passed when she ascended a set of stairs and found herself in front of a book similar to the one she came in through. She furrowed her brow, touching it. Power seemed to surge out of it, before it faded away.

“You thought to reject me, and yet here you are. Your journey towards enlightenment has finally lead you here, to my realm, as I knew it would.”

Casil’s eyes darted up to the Daedric Prince. Hermaeus Mora drifted lazily behind the book, giant eye watching Casil. She could see some unknown realm reflected in the green-yellow eye, with a pupil akin to a goat or a frog’s. Casil pursed her lips. 

‘What do you want?’ she signed, lifting her chin up.

“You have entered  _ my  _ realm. You have sought out the forbidden knowledge that only one other has obtained. You are a Dragonborn, like Miraak before you. A seeker of knowledge and power.” 

Casil snorted. ‘I can’t use shouts. Someone as all knowing as you should be aware of that.’ She signed somewhat angrily.

“And yet, you forget that this realm contains an endless amount of knowledge. Perhaps, even the knowledge you seek to fix your little… problem,” the creature spoke, a tentacle extending out to brush against Casil’s throat. 

She swatted the tentacle away angrily, making Hermaeus Mora’s eye narrow slightly. ‘I don’t need your help,’ she signed. 

Mora let out a hum, clearly amused. “And you believe you can solve things another way…?”

Casil nodded, brow furrowed. ‘I don’t  _ need  _ you, and I won’t serve you.’

“You will serve me, willing or not. All who seek after the secrets of the world are my servants,” Hermaeus Mora stated simply, though Casil could hear a distant tinge of irritation in his low, molasses voice. The Daedric Prince’s tentacles curled, before the eye slowly tilted. “Without my help, you will never be able to be the hero you were meant to be,” he taunted.

‘I have someone else who can help me,’ she signed, hands faltering a bit.

“You believe you can use Miraak to save you?  _ Amusing, _ ” the giant eye seemed rather… gleeful. “To what use would your rival be to you… that you cannot solve by simply having your voice back…?” He questioned.

Casil didn’t respond, gritting her teeth.

A tentacle extended out. “I can give you the knowledge you seek. Return your voice. Give you a piece of what you need to defeat your enemy. In return, you will destroy Miraak and serve me as my champion. Miraak has served me well, and he was rewarded. I can grant you the same power as he wields, but all knowledge has its price,” he purred.

‘Isn’t Miraak your ally? Why set me up to destroy him?’ Casil signed, brow furrowed.

“He has served me long and well. But he grows restless under my guidance. His desire to return to your world will spread my influence more widely. But it will also set him free from my direct control. It may be time to replace him with a more…  _ loyal  _ servant. One who still appreciates the gifts I have to offer. So, do we have a deal?”

Casil narrowed her eyes, balling her hands into fists. ‘I will not be that loyal servant you look for. I will get myself through this, without having to sell myself out to a daedra,’ she signed angrily.

Hermaeus Mora showed a hint of anger, but the tentacle retracted. “You will return here, when you see that you cannot make this on your own as you think you can. My offer will still stand. It is inevitable,” he said, before dissolving away. 

Casil watched the Prince disappear, before she looked back to the book. She had to solve this, and fast. She wasn’t stupid; she knew if she took up Mora’s offer, she would end up in the same place as Miraak. Suddenly roping Miraak into everything and having to deal with him seemed like a much easier, doable task then it had been before. Casil read through the book before, before the world spun around her and went black.

 

Casil returned to the waking world, shaking her head a bit as she did so.

“What happened? What did you see? Different people have very different experiences when reading these books?” Neloth asked immediately, stepping towards her. 

Casil rubbed her eyes for a moment with one hand, tucking the book under an arm. ‘I talked to Hermaeus Mora,’ she signed, having to spell out the Daedric Prince’s name for Sterlas to understand it.

“You’re still acting surprisingly sane, too. What did he have to say? He must have wanted something from you.”

‘He wants me to kill Miraak,’ she replied. ‘And if I agree to do so, I get my voice back and learn whatever power I need to in order to face Miraak.’

The room fell silent.

“And I take it you turned down his deal,” Neloth stated.

Casil took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Casil, why the hell would you turn that down?” Sterlas suddenly snapped. Casil looked at him in surprise. “We wouldn’t have to pick up someone we don’t know or can trust to do this. You could go back to Skyrim and kill that dragon on your own. Hell, you’d  _ have your voice! _ ” he exclaimed.

Casil frowned, knitting her brow together. ‘I refuse to be anyone’s servant, let alone a daedric prince’s,’ she replied defensively. 

“Casil, if we don’t figure this out we  _ all die,”  _ he replied sharply.

‘What happened to supporting the fact that I can’t use a shout?’ Casil signed angrily, flashing her teeth.

Sterlas exhaled hard, running a hand through his dreads. He shook his head, turning before heading towards the door. Neloth glanced between the two parties, before following after the dog. 

“Well, i’ll leave you to… whatever it is that you choose to do at this point. I need to get back to Tel Mithryn. Though if you want my two septims,” he turned to look at Casil before walking out the door, “I would prefer not to die in the near or foreseeable future, and i’m sure many others would agree with me.” With that, the wizard exited the reading room.

Casil stood there in silence, gripping the Black Book. Jenassa remained silent as well, looking at the ground for a moment. 

“Let’s go, Casil. We can figure it out, but we should get out of here,” she said, motioning to let Casil walk in front of her.

The bosmer let out a exhale, before nodding. She pushed the doors open and stepped outside, squinting at the light. She almost walked immediately into the back of Neloth, who had stopped a few feet outside of the door. Casil squinted, backing up. Why had he-

A dragon perched on the ruins in front of them, staring them down. “Miraak has commanded your death. So it shall be,” the dragon rumbled once Casil had noticed him. He inhaled, before letting loose a stream of fire. 

Neloth raised his hands, deflecting a good amount of the damage with a huge ward. Casil staggered out of the way, throwing up her own ward. The dragon, Krosulhah, took to the air.

“Soon, Miraak will return to resume his rightful  _ junaar  _ over Solstheim!” the dragon roared, circling.

Casil threw a fireball at him, which whizzed past the beast’s neck. Jenassa staggered back around the corner of the reading room, wincing from the attack. She hadn’t shielded much of it herself, caught off guard. Sterlas cursed to himself, holding his axe in his hand tightly as he waited for the dragon to land.

“You certainly seem to have a knack for attracting trouble,” Neloth snapped at Casil, using Ebonyflesh before casting a lightning bolt at the Krosulhah. The dragon snarled as the attack hit, before unleashing another stream of fire.

The party took cover behind various rocks of the ruins as the beast strafed the ruins, leaving trails of fire before circling back around. Casil and Neloth took turns trying to hit the dragon as he left. Finally, Casil managed to hit the dragon in the wing. Korsulhah snarled, turning violently so he could land on the platform as the leather between his fingers burned. Sterlas did not hesitate. He rushed the dragon, swinging his axe. The blade connected with the dragon’s face, causing it to snarl again in pain. A wing lashed out, knocking Sterlas to the ground before pinning him under it. Casil rushed from her cover, hurling a fireball. The fire broke over the beast’s shoulder, and he let out a low chuckle.

“When Miraak returns, all will bow before him,” he growled, crushing Sterlas with his weight. The werewolf winced, struggling to try to push the wing off of him.

Neloth nailed the dragon in the face with a large spike of ice. Korsulhah howled in pain, jerking back. He raised his wings, flapping them to try to keep himself balanced as he roared. The ice had embedded itself in his eye socket. Sterlas winced and rolled out from under the dragon, picking his axe up again. He rushed the dragon once more, taking a swing at its leg. Korsulhah hissed and collapsed forward,  his leg giving out under him. 

Casil put all of her strength into one last attack, before finishing the beast off with it. 

Sterlas staggered to go check on Jenassa as Neloth and Casil watched the dragon’s skin slowly peel away. Casil anticipated the surge of energy that came with absorbing a dragonsoul, or at least the tugging, but to her surprise it didn’t happen. She furrowed her brow, before she noticed him.

“Not this time, dragonborn. This one is mine,” Miraak said calmly, his ethereal form standing a few feet from the side of the dragon as its soul was absorbed into him.

Casil’s eyes widened, and she bolted towards him. The first dragonborn didn’t move, watching her with the expectation that she would try to attack. She didn’t. She tried to reach out for him, but her hands fell through his form. She cursed to herself, before raising her hands. By the Divines, she hoped he understood what she was saying. She wasn’t sure if she’d get another chance.

‘I need to talk to you,’ she signed frantically, staring up at the masked man.

Miraak was silent. He didn’t understand, did he? Casil violently tried her best to relay what she meant, before Miraak suddenly spoke again.

“Do not act like I can’t understand you,” he snapped. He fell quiet again, clearly thinking before he turned away from her. “I have no need to talk to you.” His form started to fade, before he paused. The mask tilted, glancing back at Casil.

She stood there, trembling with her hands balled up at her side. Tears welled up in the bosmer’s eyes, before she rose her hands again. ‘I need your help. I will help you out. Do you get it? I can’t talk.’

In all of his years of planning, this was not a turn of events he had foreseen. He turned away from her again. “You know where to find me,” he said simply, before his form faded away.

Casil managed a sigh of relief, staring at the empty space the dragonborn had once been standing in before she turned to face her companions.

Sterlas was treating Jenassa for her burns, not bothering to look at Casil. Neloth stood with his arms folded, watching.

“Be weary if you choose to double cross Hermaeus Mora. You may find that servitude was a much, much better option.” The dark elf turned away, before heading back towards his study. Casil watched him go, trying to keep her breathing steady. 

“We’ll rest here for the night,” Jenassa said suddenly, “if that’s acceptable. I need to rest.” 

Casil turned back, walking over finally to at least heal her up with the last of her magicka. She nodded though. That was fine. 

 

Casil helped to set up camp, starting a fire and getting the mercenary situated. Her and Sterlas said nothing to each other, though she couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. She waited until after they had food to pick up the book again. She crossed her legs, setting the book in her lap. With a deep breath, she opened it.

 

He was not immediately there, which she expected. Casil spent some time wandering through the mountains of books, wondering if Hermaeus Mora was going to suddenly appear again. He didn’t, and there was no sign of the strange being. She hoped it stayed that way. Casil wondered if that’s why Miraak was hanging back.

She was in the middle of shifting through a stack of ancient looking tomes when she heard the sound of a dragon’s wings, before the great serpentine beast settled down on some sort of gate-like structure behind her. Miraak sat on his back, watching her.

“So. You cannot Shout,” he stated condescendingly, seemingly disappointed. 

Casil turned to face him, taking a deep breath. She shook her head. ‘I need your help. Alduin has returned, and without a Voice, I cannot stop him on my own.’ It was painful to admit.

Miraak let out a grunt. He slid off the dragon’s back, landing on the ground with unexpected gracefulness. Without warning, he suddenly charged. Casil winced in pain as his much larger mass slammed into her, pinning her back against one of the desks that scattered Apocrypha. His sword was drawn, pressed against her throat as he pinned her down.

“Hermaeus Mora put you up to this, didn’t he?” He hissed. Casil struggled weakly, gasping before she shook her head. “Am I truly supposed to believe that the Last Dragonborn can’t even  _ speak? _ ”

Casil felt tears well up in her eyes again. She nodded. 

Miraak loosened his grip, pulling the blade from her throat. Casil let out a exhale of relief, before he plunged the blade into her gut. A strangled cry emerged from her throat, pain tearing through her body. She keeled over in shock. Miraak withdrew the blade, watching the woman collapse to the ground.

“So you aren’t lying,” he said simply, eyeing her as she gripped her stomach. 

Casil glared at him in pain, tears running down her cheeks. She struggled to heal the gash, though she was drained of magicka. Miraak grunted. 

“Pathetic,” he turned to walk away from her. “So, you think I will listen to you and help defeat Alduin?” he questioned, moving to lean on a pile of books.

Casil tried to ignore the pain, taking deep breaths. She spat out a mouthful of blood, grimacing as she dug for any scrap of energy she could to heal herself. She simply gave a nod.

“And you believe that I would let you live after I escaped here? That I would not use you in order to gain the power I need to return to Tamriel?”

Casil steadied her breathing, closing her eyes. She raised blood covered hands to reply. ‘I know Dragonrend. I know you can bend the will of dragons. That’s the power I was supposed to get to stop you. But you can’t bend Alduin’s. Without Dragonrend, you don’t stand a chance against him.’ Casil signed. She did not know if Bend Will failed on Alduin, but she was willing to bet it didn’t. If nothing else, it was the only thing she had to bluff with.

“And you think I can’t learn that from another means?”

Casil managed a weak smirk. ‘You can’t. If you could, wouldn’t Mora have told you already?’

Miraak fell silent. “They wanted to use me to deal with Alduin - Hakon and the rest. I chose otherwise,” he mused. “It amuses me that you think you would be any different.”

Casil spat out another mouthful of blood, feeling her head spin a bit. If she died here, would she die in the waking world…? ‘Hermaeus Mora knows you’re trying to break out,’ Casil signed.

The rival dragonborn visibly stiffened. 

‘If you help me, I can help you out. You’re not going to finish building those… whatever they are, with the rocks, at the pace you’re going,’ Casil signed, half bluffing. ‘If Hermaeus Mora doesn’t get you first, you won’t have anything to come back to. Alduin will have already eaten it. I can stop him. I have the Words of Power we need. I can help get you out of here.”

Miraak was silent, combing over her words as he debated how much of what she said was true. “You’re bluffing to save your life,” he said indifferently. 

‘Hermaeus Mora offered me back my voice and the ability to overthrow you in return for killing you. Alduin knows that I have learned Dragonrend, but doesn’t know that I can’t use it. He won’t stall much longer,’ Casil replied. All of that was truth.

“And i’m to believe that you were foolish enough not to take it?”

‘I am nobody’s servant.’

Miraak straightened himself out, before moving to pace across the platform they stood on. “And you think you can help me out of here?”

Casil nodded, managing to get the worst of the bleeding under control on her wound. ‘You can only get so many people to work on the rocks at once, right? And they aren’t fast. I can get the whole island to work on it. I can bring summons to work on it and complete it faster. I may be able to find extra energy to bring in, if that’s what you need. You just need to release everyone under your control. I can’t convince them to work freely if you’ve still bent their wills.’

Miraak drummed his gloved fingers against the armor on his wrist, before he turned to climb the gate back up to the dragon.

“Do not waste my precious time, dragonborn. I will honor your plan… for now.” He pulled himself onto the dragon’s back again, before the dragon took off.


	31. XXXI. First Light

Her plan was not well met by anyone she spoke to, including her own team members.

The Skaal refused to help bring back Miraak, let alone corrupt the Stones that they claimed brought balance to the land. Despite having set them free, they would not willingly return to continue the monstrosity that they had been building.

Those living in Raven Rock we understandably weary, but at least seemed like they could be coaxed with the offer of gold and the idea that Miraak might never return to the island. The Reavers were difficult to approach at all, though Casil knew she could at least buy them out with gold. How reliable they would be though was questionable. Neloth did not offer any help, but the wizard began to linger around. Out of interest, he had explained. He was curious where this would go, and if it would work.

The initial workforce Casil gathered was less than the number working on it to begin with, and while they worked a bit faster it was not a improvement. Frustrated, Casil ordered Sterlas and Jenassa back to Skyrim to fetch her necromancy components. How much truth did she want to reveal to the people of Solstheim? Would they even believe her?

The least she could start with was Raven Rock.

Casil did not break the news easy, and it was not accepted easily either. Aludin was back, and they did not have much time. Some had heard the rumor through some of the sailors, but few believed it. Her statement initially was met with outrage, which wasn’t far from what she expected. Nobody wanted to believe the elf, and it took the counselors all in their power to keep many of the townspeople from outright driving her away. Casil hunkered down for a few days in the inn, waiting for Sterlas and Jenassa to return back. It was at least enough time for her news to sink in and for people to contemplate the truth behind her words.

Jenassa and Sterlas returned with the bulk of Casil’s gold, and a good handful of very sketchy looking bags and chests. Casil refused to reveal her cargo’s contents, and instead turned their attention to the offer at hand.

As the bosmer had found out, and could easily tell, Raven Rock was not in the best shape. From what she had gathered, the mines had dried up and left the town in shambles with little trade or economy to speak of. The first counselor was taking gold out of his own coffers to pay for supplies. So Casil knew they were very much hurting for money.

Casil sorted through her gold, and ran the calculations. The Reavers had at least given her some sort of vague idea on how fast people could work, and with that she devised her pay. She brought it forward to the people again with the backing of her two bodyguards, with a reminder of what was at stake.

One by one, people took up her offer. They were hurting too bad not to, and it was evident that many of them had come to the conclusion that Casil’s claim had not been a lie. Which left the Skaal.

 

Casil trudged out through the snow towards the village. More smoke rose into the air, a clear sign that all had returned to relative normality since she had talked to Miraak.

“They’re not going to take money you know,” Sterlas grumbled from behind her.

Casil sighed. No, they wouldn’t. She knew that already from the last time they spoke. The Skaal lived off of the land, and they had no need for gold.

“Do you have a plan?” Jenassa asked.

Casil shrugged. ‘I’m going to give them the same talk I gave Raven Rock. And if they want to let Alduin eat the world, I’m going to just let Miraak take them back,’ she signed, disgruntled. ‘I don’t have time for people who want to sit in the middle.’

“Well you better not _tell_ them that, or we’re not going to get out of this village without a fight,” Sterlas warned. “And if we do that, and we make it out, we’re going to be down a good number of workers who are, you know. Alive.”

Casil rubbed her face, closing her eyes for a moment. ‘I know,’ she signed with a sigh. She was just going to have to be careful with how she worded things.

The villagers were quick to notice the trio. The uneasiness was obvious; while Casil may have set them free, she had immediately tried to rope them back into it. They weren’t sure how much they could trust her, or what her intentions were.

Frea made her way over to them from the Shaman’s Hut at the far end of the village.

“If you have come back to try to enslave my people again, then leave. We will not work to release Miraak, or to corrupt the All-Maker Stones,” Frea snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

Casil narrowed her eyes. ‘The fate of the world relies on this, Frea. Alduin is coming back. The World-Eater. If nothing is done, we will all perish.’

“The All-Maker Stones bring oneness to the land, if you corrupt them-”

‘It won’t matter if we’re all _dead_ and everything is _gone_.’

The two stopped with a meager foot of space between them, staring each other down.

‘This is the only way we stay alive. Trust me, if I had a different option I would take that one. But I don’t. So you help me get Miraak out, and when it’s all said and done, we leave. Never come back. You can rip down whatever it is that’s being built. I don’t care. I’ll take Miraak, and i’ll make sure he doesn’t come back. And in return, you help me save the world.’

Frea pulled her arms closer to her steel-plated chest. The nord’s brow furrowed, before she turned. “I will bring your offer to the elders, and they will discuss it,” she replied, heading back towards the Shaman’s Hut.

Casil remained where she was, trying to ignore the multitude of stares she was getting from the other villagers. A soft murmur traveled through the bystanders.

‘Let’s set up camp nearby. I have a feeling this is going to take awhile,’ Casil said at last, turning to walk back the way they came.

“Do you want me to bring the bags?” Sterlas asked. Casil shook her head.

‘They don’t need to be any more uneasy than they already are. The less they know, the better.’

Sterlas gave a shrug. He couldn’t argue with that logic. He was sure that many people on the island would probably be a little less than happy to see Casil’s grand necromancy project.

 

Miraak showed up long after Sterlas and Jenassa had fallen asleep, leaving Casil to the shift. She wasn’t sure how anyone slept there; the auroras above kept the land below lit fairly well. Casil slowly peeled apart a branch, tossing the wood fragments into the fire as she thought. She wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there; frankly, it was hard to tell when he was half transparent. He could have just appeared for all she knew.

Casil glanced up at him, waiting for him to speak first. She had no doubt he had something to say if he bothered to do… whatever he was doing. Casil wasn’t even sure how he was managing to manifest himself in Tamriel from Apocrypha like that.

“Here I thought nothing would come of your plan,” he said, folding his arms. Everyone folded their arms at her. She narrowed her eyes.

‘You can’t be here just to say that,’ she replied.

The dragonborn let out a grunt. “Our time is running short. Don’t try my patience.”

Casil rolled her eyes. ‘I’m working as fast as I can. You don’t really have a great reputation here.’

“Perhaps it was foolish of me to believe you might be even a fraction of the dragonborn I am,” Miraak mused.

‘Stick up your ass much?’ Casil signed, unamused.

“Don’t test me, child. If things do not improve soon, be sure you will be no longer needed.”

With that, the man was gone as suddenly as he had appeared. Casil let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair. She was really, _really_ going to get tired of him. She cursed the Divines for letting this happen.

 

The morning dawned, and brought with it a final agreement from the Skaal. They would work, under the condition that the structures be destroyed immediately after and Miraak and Casil were to never return to Solsthiem again. Casil very happily agreed. She wouldn’t come back to the ashen shithole ever again, but there was only so much she could do about Miraak. But at the end of the day, after Alduin was dead she didn’t care. It wasn’t her problem anymore.

Casil returned to Raven Rock, and with her companion’s help they hauled the bags and chests off to Miraak’s temple. Sterlas and Jenassa had gathered every bone and soul gem they could find in Casil’s house, sans any still in what had been the apiary. Neither could stomach going near it to pull bones out of the sludge. What they brought was enough though. Casil carefully counted out her supplies, arranging things in orderly piles. Skulls, arms, legs, hands, feet, ribcages lined up into human shapes. A petty, lesser, or common soul gem placed in the chest cavity. She made row after row of them, stretching the piles of bodies across the top of the temple as well as several of the inner rooms. The cultists watched uneasily, but clearly Miraak had gotten the point across that she was on their side to some degree. Casil set Sterlas and Jenassa on guard duty to make sure none of the cultists touched her setups. Casil set up a total of 57 skeletons before she ran out of soul gems to power them. A handful of the cultists scrounged up a few from their supplies, bringing the total up to 61. The bosmer was sure she could probably pick some from Neloth, but 61 would be a fine start. With that, she set out to resurrecting them all.

The process was not short, but Casil worked as hard and fast as she could. By the time she was done, she was exhausted and absolutely sick of the taste of magicka potions. The woman hunkered down and recovered in the small camp the trio had set up on the outskirts of the temple, keeping watch on her multitude of skeletons as they worked. Things went  much faster now that practically everyone on the island was working. Sterlas and Jenassa took turns checking on each stone for their progress and for the worker’s pay. Casil could tell that, by the end of this, they would have eaten through almost all of her carefully hoarded money. She had told Sterlas and Jenassa to leave enough at her house for a month or two of basic necessities, and she was glad she had. There wasn’t going to be much extra left.

All of that work to make that money, to pay to people to let out another asshole of a dragonborn to do Casil’s job. She made a muffled groan, rubbing her face as she sat in the opening of her tent. She pulled a fur closer around her shoulders, watching skeletons working away on the temple and the stone that lay at the center. Casil sighed, grabbing another log before tossing it onto the fire. She couldn’t wait for all of this to be over. The bosmer stared into the fire for a few minutes longer, before her gaze shifted over to her bag. One of the Black Books peeked out of it, tauntingly. Casil pursed her lips. The last report she had gotten from Jenassa or Sterlas was that progress was going very, very well at the other rocks. The on in Raven Rock was apparently just about done, as far as anyone could tell. Nobody was really sure what they were building fully. Whatever Miraak had left them was a sort of basic notion of what to do, and things just came together. Casil could feel the power humming around the stone at the Temple. They were doing work, though she had no idea _what._ She recalled that Frea had mentioned that the stones brought oneness to the land. She wondered if Miraak had needed them to re-anchor himself to their plane of existence. How much longer would it take? Did all of the structures need to be finished? How much more time did they have before Hermaeus Mora took notice or finally decided to intervene?

Casil reached over and pulled out the hefty book, settling it in her lap. The green emblem that embellished the front mocked her. She narrowed her eyes. At this stage she wasn’t sure if she hated the Daedric Prince or the dragonborn more. She gripped the cover and pulled it open, staring into the pages. The runes rose up out of the page, and soon she was pulled back into Apocrypha.

 

The location, for once, looked somewhat familiar. She had been dropped off in the same place before, or at least she assumed she had. The structures looked about the same as they had been. Casil surveyed the area, nervously anticipating the eldritch horror’s sudden appearance. He didn’t. Casil let out a soft sigh. They must have more time. The wood elf started forward, wondering how to contact Miraak. Did he know that she was there? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t know jack about him at the end of the day, and it bothered her.

Casil very, very carefully avoided the Seekers and the Lurkers. She did not need to alert any of Hermaeus Mora’s servants that she was there. She was sure the Daedric Prince could easily know if she was, but the fact that he had yet to show himself made Casil think he had his attention elsewhere. Casil just hoped that ‘elsewhere’ wasn’t on her only out.

Casil found a outcropping of twisted black metal and book to perch on after some undetermined amount of time of walking. She carefully climbed up, scanning the horizon for something other than tentacles and black ooze. She spotted it: a dragon, somewhere off in the distance. Casil double checked her surroundings, before she sent a fireball out towards the best. It didn’t seem to take notice. Casil cursed to herself, throwing a few more. Finally, the winged speck turned its route towards her. She buckled down, waiting until at last the dragon had come into sight.

“ _Dovahkiin,_ you are not expected,” the beast rumbled as it neared.

Casil hoped the damnable beast could read. She pulled a length of paper she had grabbed off of one of the tables and a large ink brush, before scrawling a large lettered response to the dragon. ‘Take me to Miraak.’

The dragon carefully hovered in front of her hiding spot, powerful wings kicking up clouds of dust and paper as it kept itself afloat. The dragon’s eyes narrowed, maw dangerously close to the bosmer. The dragon seemed to pause, a very glazed look reflected in its eyes. Finally, it landed down below her, lowering its head as it looked up at her. “Climb aboard. He will see you.”

Casil let out a sigh of relief, before she climbed down to meet the dragon. He lowered a shoulder so she could climb on the spot between his back and the start of his neck. Casil hesitated for a moment, nervous, before she swallowed her fears and climbed onto the dragon’s back. “Hold on, _joor,_ ” the dragon rumbled, before he spread his wings. With a lurch, they took to the green skies.

Casil gave a death grip to the nearest spike that jutted out of the dragon’s back, practically hugging the beast’s neck. The ground rushed away from them as the dragon rose into the sky with powerful wingbeats, before it headed off away from the platform. Tentacles, the black ocean and many other islands of books and metal passed by under them as they flew in a amazing and terrifying blur. Wind whipped around them as they moved, and Casil found herself caught between the exhilarating rush of flying for the first time, and the incredible fear that accompanied it. The dragon kept a good distance between them and any of the platforms, so Casil was surprised when the dragon suddenly started to gain altitude again. She turned her gaze from the world below to what was ahead of them, and then she saw why. A great pillar that rose far, far above the others lay ahead. The dragon circled around it, climbing up further and further. As they neared, Casil began to recognize it as the place she had initially  met Miraak. Another dragon she had not seen before was sitting on one of the great archways of stone that marked the four sides of the pillar, and near the center was Miraak himself. He watched the dragon circle, arms folded across his chest again.

Casil took a deep breath. The dragon slowly landed onto the ground, lowering his back again so Casil could climb off. The bosmer glanced over at the nord as he approached, before she nervously slid off the back of the dragon. She used the beast’s huge body to hide a very deep, uneasy breath before she stepped out to meet Miraak. The dragon took off once she had stepped away, taking off again to patrol. Miraak stopped a few feet away, leaving Casil to fill the gap while he watched his dragon to take off.

“You kept to your word,” he said, mask tilted upwards as the dragon climbed into the sky before moving away.

Casil waited until he was looking at her to reply. ‘My companions say the structures are getting close to being done. Raven Rock’s should be about done now,’ she signed.

“I know,” Miraak said, and to Casil’s surprise he didn’t sound irritated like he normally had been.

‘How much longer then do you think?’ Casil asked.

The older dragonborn held out his hands, looking at them for a moment. “It shouldn’t be much longer. Perhaps  I was wrong to have doubted your ability to pull this off,” he said, before turning his attention back to Casil. “Soon then, I will be free-”

There was a chuckle. “Will you now?”

Casil felt her heart drop into her stomach. They didn’t have the time she had thought they had. Hermaeus Mora had already known.


	32. XXXII. Way Down We Go

Hermaeus Mora’s eye seemed… sickly pleased. Miraak froze up after turning, gloved hands balled into fists. Casil couldn’t find the guts to move either.

“You thought you could hide your plans from me, in my own domain?” Hermaus Mora sneered, eye narrowing. 

Miraak shifted a bit, before snapping his attention to the remaining dragon. “Relonikiv, attack!” He demanded, backing towards Casil.

The dragon growled, raising up to face the Daedric Prince. Mora chuckled again, largely ignoring the dragon. 

Tentacles shot out from the pools of black ooze that made up the gaps between the arches. Miraak drew his sword, managing to cut through a handful of them before they could land any hard hits on him. Casil jumped back towards the fellow dragonborn, throwing up a ward to deflect a few. She winced as a few skimmed by her, ripping a few thin cuts in her arms. 

“Fo Krah Diin!” Ice climbed over some of the pools, freezing them and some of the tentacles over. Casil knocked away a few more attacks with fire, hearing the dragon roar behind them. She threw a look back as Mora effortlessly subdued the great lizard with a slew of tentacles, bringing the creature to the ground before fully ripping its head off. 

“I will give you one more chance,” Hermaeus Mora hissed, slamming a tentacle between Casil and Miraak. “Or, you can meet the same fate Miraak will.”

Miraak swung his blade through another set of tentacles, getting grazed by a handful more in the process. “Go!” he suddenly snapped to Casil. 

Casil staggered back in surprise, violently trying to find a solution. She scrambled to reach for her bag.

“So be it,” Hermaeus Mora said, clearly disgruntled. 

Casil grabbed the book, before she reached out. Her fingers managed to grab ahold of one of Miraak’s hands, and she pulled him towards her with all the strength she could muster. She felt herself being pulled back to the waking world. She tightened her grip on Miraak’s hand, trying her hardest not to let it slip or fade away. Apocrypha rushed around her, feeling the assault of unblocked attacks from the Daedric Prince. She would survive. Miraak, on the other hand…

The world faded out to black as the other Dragonborn took a hit to the chest.

Casil jolted when Tamriel rushed back around her. The skeletons that had been working on the temple were locked in combat with a pair of Lurkers that had emerged from the water around the stone. The soft glow around the stone was fluctuating violently. She could feel her heart pound.

The bosmer threw the book aside, pushing herself to her feet. Jenassa was rushing towards her, shouting something that Casil ignored. She ran towards the stone, darting through tendrils and bone. Her hands slammed against the stone, fingers tingling at the touch. She closed her eyes.

If she lost him, that was it. 

She reached out. She poured every last ounce of her magicka into the stone. She made a last ditch search. She felt a tug, and then she blacked out.

 

The first thing he managed was a scream. A strangled, gurgling cry of absolute  _ agony.  _ Blood splattered from his mouth, and he fell forward. Shaking hands reached to grip at the gaping hole in his chests, lungs filling with blood at each panicked, ragged gasps. The world spun around him, a rush of long forgotten scents and feelings masked by the heavy smell of blood and the overwhelming pain. He could not think, he could not act. Everything was a dizzying haze as more and more blood leaked from his wounds and less and less air filled his lungs as he gasped for breath. He was only vaguely aware of the sudden rush of people around him. His eyes snapped shut as his mask was pulled away, wincing from the light. Blood poured from his mouth, coating the inside of his mask and running down his chin and neck. The cultists carefully shifted him, pulling back his robes to access his wounds. Everything hurt. Everything smelled and tasted of iron. His consciousness slipped away with his blood.

 

Casil re-awoke in her tent. A throbbing headache racked her brain, and she winced immediately. The woman rolled over to her side, curling up a bit as she let out a ragged breath. She could hear someone shuffle next to her.

“Hey, hey. Take it easy Casil. You’ve really done a number to yourself,” Sterlas said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Casil furrowed her brow, squeezing her eyes closed before she squinted to look around the tent. Sterlas was sitting next to her and, to her surprise, Neloth was loitering in the tent’s entry. Casil struggled to sit up, fumbling to ask if Miraak had made it through. Sterlas helped her sit up.

“Easy, easy. Don’t hurt yourself any more then you already have,” he warned. Casil squinted at him, brow furrowed as her head spun. 

‘Did he make it?’

Sterlas sighed. “We don’t know. They won’t let us get close enough to tell.”

“If you mean into Tamriel, yes. Alive? That’s debatable,” Neloth added in, scratching his beard. 

Casil tried to get up, swatting Sterlas as he tried to stop her. ‘I need to see him.’

“Casil, you need to take it easy-” Sterlas began.

Casil weakly tried to push him away. ‘Then help me,’ she signed rather angrily.

Sterlas sighed, before helping her stand. Neloth stepped out of the way as the two exited the tent, slowly making their way to the entry of the temple.

“Don’t try to use any of your spells,” Neloth warned as they passed. “You pulled quite the stunt earlier.”

Casil glanced at the wizard, before nodding. She hobbled next to Sterlas, leaning on him for support. 

Jenassa met them inside of the temple. Cultists were hurrying throughout the ruins, and once they had gotten further down Casil noticed the heap of bloody rags that had been piled into a cart. The smell told her it was fresh.

He had been hit before she had been pulled through. Her stomach twisted. He had lost a lot of blood.

Jenassa lead them further down, before stopping. A pair of Cultists stood guard to a side room, and Casil could see that a Cultist was inside carefully moving bloody rags out of the room. Sterlas and Jenassa let Casil make her way towards the door. One of the cultists held out a hand to stop her from entering though. 

“He must not be disturbed. He needs to rest,” they said in a hushed tone. Casil pursed her lips at them, before glancing through the doorway again.

Towards the back of the room was a bed, and on the bed she could only assume was Miraak. His back was turned to them and she could make out very few features of the man, but she could tell he was not doing well. He was shaking badly, hidden under furs as he gave ragged, weak gasps for breath. The back of his neck was a clammy white color, and every once in awhile he gave out a pained cough. Casil spotted his robes in a basin near by, along with his mask. A cultist was carefully cleaning the blood out of it. 

Casil felt sick. ‘Will he make it?’ she signed, not moving her gaze from the other dragonborn. 

“We don’t know,” they said after a long pause. “We have done everything in our power to heal him. All we can do is wait now.”

Casil nodded numbly, before moving to sit down against one of the walls. Sterlas and Jenassa glanced at each other, before Jenassa nodded and head back upstairs to fetch some things. Sterlas gave the girl space. Divines knew she needed it. Casil stared at the floor, and waited. 

 

Casil lost all the contents of her stomach when she felt the first signs of tugging. She wanted to run away from it. Not now. Not like this. Not him. Her skin tingled, and she threw up again. In moments, almost all of the remaining Cultists were there. Casil could here a weak, muffled moan of pain from the room. There were more bloody rags, more potions, more everything. Sterlas crouched by Casil and held her as she threw up again between a few quiet sobs. The cultists thinned, and the tugging faded. Casil quietly cried into the werewolf’s side. She was scared. Sterlas wouldn’t show it, but so was he.

 

Casil felt the tugging two more times before it stopped. Everyone was tired. Everyone was afraid. Half of the cultists had stopped wearing their masks, and some even had just given up with their robes. Most of the clothing was blood soaked. Everyone looked as exhausted as they felt. Casil, Sterlas and Jenassa had set up inside of the temple, and Sterlas and Jenassa took turns watching Casil. She did not move far from where Miraak lay, and had become some sort of beacon for if things were going south. But finally, over three days later, he had managed to stabilize out. 

Casil shifted to the sound of someone heavily relying on a staff making their way towards the room she was sitting in. A soft breath escaped her lips when she turned to see who it was.

He was looking worse for wear even with his mask and his robes on, but he was alive and moving. Miraak slowly made his way into the room, using his staff as a walking stick. She could hear that his breathing was still haggard, but it was clear the dragonborn was trying not to show his weakness. Four cultists flanked his sides, clearly worried about him being up and about already. He moved to sit at the opposite side of the table Casil was eating at, resting his staff against the table. Silence fell for a few moments.

“Perhaps I was wrong to have doubted you,” he said simply, resting gloved hands on the table. 

Casil swallowed hard, glancing at her food before somewhat nervously poking at it with her fork. She’d been so worried about him and anxious to talk to him before, but now that he was awake she suddenly lost all the courage she had previously had. She gave an awkward nod of her head, lips pursed tightly. She set her fork down after a moment, raising her hands. 

‘I didn’t… think you were going to make it out,’ she signed, giving him an uneasy glance.

Miraak was silent. Casil shifted uncomfortably under the mask’s emotionless gaze. “I assume you have a plan from here…?” He asked finally, head tilting very slightly.

Casil bit her lower lip, before nodding. ‘We go back to Skyrim. I need to check in with the Greybeards and Paarthurnax after that, before we can do anything else,’ she said.

Miraak let out a grunt. “Do not expect me to help you with that,” Miraak stated sternly. 

Casil managed to roll her eyes. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to. In fact, I would rather you didn’t come with me at all for that. From what i’ve heard about you I’m not sure either party would be particularly glad to see you,’ Casil signed, leaning on her elbows. 

The older dragonborn moved to fold his arms across his chest, and the somewhat sharp gasp Casil could hear indicated  that the movement hurt more then he had expected. He did not change his position though. “I am not coming along with you to be a  _ tool, _ ” he warned.

‘I don’t expect you to be. Once I get what I need to know from them, you’re off that leash. Good enough for you?’ Casil offered. 

“So be it,” Miraak replied, before he shifted slowly to get back up. 

‘We will leave as soon as you’re in decent enough shape to make it back. You can rest up at my place while I go talk to the Greybeards,’ Casil added before the man looked away.

Miraak replied with a grunt, grabbing his staff so he could lean on it. “Don’t treat me like a weakling. Get your things together then, and we will leave,” Miraak said, moving to return back to the direction he had come from.

Casil rubbed her brow, watching him and his doting, nervous cultists file out of the room. Didn’t take long for that arrogance to come back it seemed. She jabbed picked her fork back up and stabbed at her food, shoving a cut piece of grilled leek into her mouth. Fine, if he wanted to go now then they would go now. The quicker they could get off of that shithole of a island, the happier Casil was.

Frea, Storn and several of the other villagers had gathered near the temple, waiting for Casil or one of her representatives to emerge from the depths. Casil only noticed them when she moved to take apart her skeletons, and she cursed that they had to show up  _ then.  _

The woman grunted, before moving to meet the Skaal on the stairs to the temple. Sterlas followed behind her as her translator, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You have what you wanted?” Frea asked, clearly on edge. 

Casil nodded. 

“Then why have you not left?”

Casil narrowed her eyes. ‘We will be leaving soon.’ Casil replied cooly.

Frea looked at the temple, eyeing the skeletons nervously before her blue eyes darted back to Casil. “All of them. You will take all of these things with you. You have brought a sickness on this land, and you have done irreversible damage to the All-Maker Stones. The oneness of the land will never be the same,” Frea snapped, her voice wavering with emotion.

Casil furrowed her brow. ‘I promised I would take  _ Miraak.  _ His followers have nothing to do with our deal. What happens to them isn’t my problem,’ Casil snappily replied. ‘I did what I had to do. There wouldn’t  _ be  _ a land if Miraak didn’t make it back here.’ 

Frea moved to speak again, but Storn stepped forward and extended a arm to stop her. The old shaman wearily looked Casil over. “Then I will request that you move them to the best of your ability. I have no doubt they will want to follow their… master… anyways, but… please…” The nord frowned, staring at Casil with tired eyes. “This island can no longer hold Miraak and his ilk.”

Casil gritted her teeth. ‘I can’t promise you they’ll leave. But fine. I’ll talk to them,’ Casil said, turning to return back to her job.

Sterlas watched as the Skaal seemed to relax in some relief, turning to leave back to their village. Storn lingered though for a moment.

“Casil,” he called.

The bosmer stopped again, looking over her shoulder.

“Be weary of him. He is not known as the Traitor for nothing,” Storn warned, before he turned to join his people.

Casil glanced at the ground, before going back to work on disassembling her skeletons. 


	33. XXXIII. Just Like Fire

Miraak seemed impatient to leave by the time all of the most needed items had been moved from the temple to the docks of Raven Rock. People had gathered around, talking in hushed tones out of earshot of the dragonborn. The cultists did most of the moving, hauling a few boxes full of whatever belongs Miraak had that had survived the weathering of the years. Gjalund was less than happy to see the cultists again, and his crew had similar feelings.

Casil sat on a box that had been stacked on the dock near the Northern Maiden, watching what was going on. She smirked. Miraak was trying not to show his wounds. He stood stiffly, gripping his staff in such a way that it was hard to tell if he was actually using it to lean on. She suddenly wondered why she had bothered feeling bad for him. Asshole. She threw Jenassa a look. The dunmer who stood next to her glanced over, eyebrow raised.

“What is it, sera?” Jenassa asked.

‘Look at that tool,’ Casil signed, using her body to block Miraak’s line of sight from her hands in the by chance he looked over.

Jenassa squinted at what she signed for a moment, before she covered her mouth to hide a smirk. She just raised her eyebrows and nodded, glancing at the older dragonborn before turning back so she could chuckle.

Casil jumped off the box so it could be moved onto the ship, moving to stand beside Jenassa.

‘I can’t believe we have to rely on him. It’s going to drive me insane, I can tell,’ Casil signed.

“Just ignore him,” Jenassa said in a low tone. “Once this is all done, you don’t have to bother with him anymore.”

Casil grunted and nodded, watching the last of the supplies be loaded onto the ship.

“Ready to get seasick again?” Sterlas said, moving to stand by Jenassa and Casil. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, giving off a whistle as he recovered from hauling heavy items onto the boat.

Yes, that was what she wanted. To be sick in front of that asshole. She shot Miraak a stink eye. The old nord was making his way down from his perch to the boat, shouting orders and a string of complaints at the myriad of cultists who lingered around him. Casil puffed her chest up, before turning to walk towards him and the captain.

‘Ready to go?’ Casil asked.

Gjalund gave Miraak and the cultists a nervous look, before he nodded to Casil. “Yeah… that should be everything you wanted to bring. Climb aboard,” he said, motioning for her and her companions. Casil moved to double check to make sure she had left nothing behind, letting the grumpy dragonborn and her companions get on before her. As she turned to finally leave, a hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She looked to the dunmer wizard in surprise.

Neloth glanced at the ship, then back to Casil. “Don’t get in over your head. Someone who has studied in old Hermaeus Mora’s realm for 4000 years isn’t someone to underestimate,” he said, before he let go of her shoulder. He folded his arms. “And neither is the Gardener of Men himself. You watch your back.”

Casil frowned, before nodding. She pulled a scrap of paper and a piece of charcoal out. ‘Thank you for your help,’ she wrote, handing it over to him.

Neloth snorted, before turning to head back off the dock. “Don’t mention it,” he replied, before disappearing into the crowd.

“Casil?” Jenassa shouted. “Are you coming?”

Casil looked back to the boat, before nodding and making her way over. She clambered onto the ship, moving to join her companions. A handful of cultists joined them, while another good handful stayed back. Casil wasn’t sure if they would leave on another ship, but she reminded herself that it wasn’t her problem. She had relayed the Skaal’s request to Miraak, though she wasn’t fully sure if he had listened. Not her problem. She was getting her end of the deal done, and beyond that it was out of her control. Ropes were thrown aboard, and they slowly began to drift away from the dock.

Casil moved to lean against the railing of the ship, watching Raven Rock and Solstheim slowly drift away. She couldn’t say she was going to miss the ashen island. She made a casual glance to Miraak. The fellow dragonborn was hunched over the opposite railing, watching the island drift further and further away as well. She wondered how he was handling things, under all of that arrogance and pride.

 

Casil was somewhat pleased when she found that her and Sterlas weren’t the only ones with seasickness. Most of the cultists were as well, and to her surprise, so was Miraak. The nord hid it much better though, and only by chance had she caught it.

Miraak had holed himself up in the hull once Solstheim had largely disappeared out of sight. Casil left him down there, preferring the air and the vast ocean to throw up into. The hull wasn’t huge anyways. Few went down there; most of the day and night as spent on deck, where there was room. Almost everyone slept above deck as well. But, below deck was where her things were and where it was far easier to do work that involved paper. Feeling ever so slightly better, the bosmer made her way down into the hull for her journal, in the mood for some translations. The hull was the size of a small room at best, and clearly most of Miraak’s things had been stored down there instead of tied down on deck. Casil had left any supplies that couldn’t get wet down there, and that was it.

Casil carefully walked down the steps, using the wall as support as the boat rocked on the waves. Her bag leaned against a pile of boxes a few feet away, and she casually made her way over to it. There was enough space by the stairs to be able to work comfortably, so she sat herself down and shuffled through her belongings for what she needed.

The sound of lurching followed by throwing up made her glance over to the other end of the hull in surprise. Casil raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to try to peer around the boxes. There was a slight groan of pain, and Casil decided to get up and walk over to investigate.

Miraak had taken up residence behind the boxes, making himself a sort of walled off area to hide in. His bedroll had been laid out behind the boxes, and the man currently was sitting on them with his back against one of the boxes. His mask was tilted up slightly, not enough for her to see anything under it, but enough so he could vomit into the bucket. Again. Casil was ready to make fun of him until she noticed the blood. Her sudden shift to try to rush around the boxes caught his attention, and he pulled his mask down before shrinking back into the corner.

“ _Stay back,”_ he snapped, though it was clear he was not doing well.

‘You’re throwing up blood,’ Casil signed, trying to take a step towards him.

“You don’t think I’ve noticed?” Miraak hissed.

‘Let me help-’

Miraak tried to push himself to his feet on the boxes. “I don’t need your help, dragonborn. There isn’t anything you can possibly do that I can’t do myself.” He propped himself up on one of the boxes, trying to get his footing.

Casil pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest as she watched him. ‘I saved your life. The least you can do is cut me some slack. You almost _died._ You don’t need to act invincible in front of me. I know you _aren’t.’_ Casil signed finally.

The nord gripped one of the boxes, leaning against it as the ship tilted. “I didn’t _need_ your help. You were only convenient to me,” Miraak replied smoothly. “I owe you nothing, nor do I have any reason to _respect_ you.”

Casil scowled. ‘I should have left you to Hermaeus Mora,’ she signed angrily.

“And this world would have come to an end, because you can’t handle this on your own,” he sneered.

‘I would have found another way.’

“Don’t try to even bother lying to me. There _is_ no other way. Now go back to your dog. You’re _bothering_ me,” Miraak hissed, trying to hide the urge to throw up again.

‘Oh, i’m sorry for _inconveniencing_ you, oh mister high and mighty. I’m sure you would have made it out of there just fine on your own and you wouldn’t have died to that Daedric Prince you so stupidly made a contract with. I’m sorry you’re salty that your old, oh so knowledgeable ass needed help from _me._ ’

Miraak narrowed his eyes beneath the mask. “You are _nothing._ I never _needed_ you. My plan would have come to fruition without you. You couldn’t have stopped me if you had tried. You can’t do _anything_ on your own.”

‘That’s a lie-’

“Is it? Then why did you come to find me? Why do you surround yourself with servants and conjurations? Admit it, _dragonborn._ You are hardly worthy of the title. You are nothing more than a weak, sniveling-”

Casil threw a punch and, to her surprise, it made contact. Her fist smashed into the mask, and Miraak stumbled back. She immediately regretted it.

Miraak took no hesitation in shoulder checking the small woman, sending her to the ground. Casil winced, but wasted no time in bringing a leg to knock Miraak off his feet. It wasn’t enough on its own, but between his seasickness and the rocking of the boat it caused him to stumbled over. He managed to avoid landing on the bucket of vomit, which he shoved aside before trying to push himself back up. Casil let out a silent howl and jumped on him, earning a grunt of pain when she slammed into his wound. Casil raised a hand to punch him again, but even weakened Miraak managed to shove Casil off with ease. He staggered to his feet, before kicking Casil in the side.

“You foolish woman…” he growled. Casil winced in pain, curling up a bit as she blocked another blow from him. She managed to grab ahold of his leg, trying to pull it out from under him. When it didn’t initially work, she made a well-aimed blow to his knee with her forehead. Miraak toppled over again and onto Casil, and the two became a fury of blows. Casil was not going to win this fight, and she knew it. But the least she could do was try to teach the bastard a lesson.

The noise brought the attention of the others rather quickly.

“Hey, hey, hey! Knock it off! Enough of that!” Sterlas yelled, bolting down the stairs before trying to make it over to where Miraak and Casil had wrestled themselves to.

Casil had just managed to get free from the nord’s grip, and had brought the full force of her shoulder and elbow into Miraak’s face. The man snarled, reeling back as the metal came into full collision with what was behind it. The blow hurt Casil like hell, but she did not let up. Her fingers came to grab the mask, and she used a kick to his stomach to help pull back. One of the straps broke, and she managed to rip the piece of metal off… which she immediately used to hit him in the head with. She raised her hand for another swing when Sterlas grabbed her by the wrist. The werewolf managed to pry the two apart, before shoving the woman to Jenassa while he pushed Miraak back. The nord made a lunge to get at Casil, but Sterlas threw himself in the way.

“Divines almighty, I will throw both of you over the damn ship if you keep fighting,” the redguard snapped, looking to Miraak. He felt his blood run cold.

Black eyes. Solid black eyes. Miraak glowered up at Sterlas, blood running down from his nose and lips, and from a few shallow gashes in his head from the mask. It was the first time most of the boat had a chance to see his face at all. He was older, with short black hair and a weathered face. The twist in his nose implied this wasn’t the first time it had been broken. A jagged scar ran down from the right eye to his lips, and his eyes…

_“Incipient madness. Loss of self-awareness. Black spots in the whites of eyes. Any of the documented indications of Hermaeus Mora’s permanent influence...”_

Casil recalled what Neloth had mentioned to her in the time Miraak had been recovering, when the dunmer wizard had decided to investigate how she was handling the Black Books. Miraak seemed to have taken those signs to a new level.

The man spat blood out of his mouth, moving his glare to Casil. He leaned against some of the boxes, bringing a sleeve up to wipe the blood away from his face.

“You _ignorant, stupid girl…”_ he growled. He winced, adjusting his robe. Casil had managed to pull it to the side in an attempt to bite him at one point during their tussle.

“ _That’s enough_ ,” Sterlas warned again, trying to bravely stare down the older dragonborn.

Miraak narrowed his oily black eyes at the werewolf, before simply brushing him aside as he moved towards Casil. “My mask. Hand it back,” he ordered, pausing just within arms reach of Casil with hand extended.

Casil looked at the mask, before coyly looking back at him. She moved to raise it above her head with the intention of trying to toss it into the bucket of vomit, but Jenassa stopped her. She pulled the mask out of Casil’s hand and returned it to Miraak with a warning glare.

Miraak snagged the mask back, flashing his teeth at Casil before turning to move back behind the boxes. A few of his cultists hesitantly looked at each other from near the stairs, before moving over to assist their leader. He did not hesitate to shoo them away. Sterlas grabbed Casil before she could try to go and harass Miraak more, hauling her upstairs.

 

“You had to pick a fight with him,” Sterlas said with a sigh, rubbing his face as Jenassa carefully stitched a gash Miraak had given her brow with the metal on his gloves. Casil went to make a face.

“Keep still. If you tense your muscles it will make this harder for me,” Jenassa reminded her, so Casil held off her mopy face.

‘He was being a asshole,’ she signed defensively.

Sterlas gave her a baffled look. “And you’re _surprised_ by that? You even said it yourself that you weren’t looking forward to working with this bastard,” he said, before shooting some of the uneasy looking cultists a glance. “Go ahead, tell him. I do not care.”

Casil folded her arms and glanced to the side like a child getting a scolding.

Jenassa sighed and tied off the knot on the thread. “Ignore him, sera. You can’t let him get to you. You’re better then that,” she said, moving to pack up the medical gear.

Casil sighed herself, scooting back on the box she was sitting on. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the crate behind her, furrowing her brow in pain. Maybe picking a fight with him had been a bad idea. He had certainly done a number on her, and she had done a number on herself taking swings at metal. Her hands certainly resented trying to punch his mask.

Working with that man was going to be hell.


	34. XXXIV. Your Bones

Miraak and Casil did not talk to each other for the entire trip to her home. The two put as much distance between each other during travel as they could, and refused to even look at each other half of the time. When they camped, the two set up their bedrolls on opposite sides of the fire and continued to ignore each other’s presence. 

Sterlas and Jenassa couldn’t stand it, though they weren’t sure they would trade it for the two fighting again. Both had done a good number to each other, though Sterlas assumed Casil had only managed to hurt the other because he was already wounded. 

They purchased another horse for Miraak and a bigger carriage, getting one more horse to help pull the new vehicle with Jenassa’s horse. Casil and Miraak rode on their own, usually one in front and one behind so they didn’t have to be near each other. Jenassa and Sterlas rode in the carriage, keeping an eye on all the supplies that had been taken off the boat. 

The silence was finally broken when they rounded the corner to Casil’s house.

“Here I was expecting you to live in a cave,” Miraak said snidely.

Sterlas rolled his eyes. “Here I was hoping you would spend the rest of this journey  _ quiet, _ ” the werewolf replied. 

Miraak turned to glance back at him, but said nothing. Casil urged her horse to pass the carriage and Miraak, lifting her chin when she passed the other dragonborn. The horse was led to the stables, before she slid off his back and moved to unlock the door. 

‘Just toss the bags of bones in the garden,’ Casil signed to Sterlas. 

The redguard nodded, pulling the reigns of the carriage to stop it. He slid off, giving the horses a pat on the side before he went to work on unloading the luggage. Jenassa moved to unhook the horses.

Miraak pulled his horse off to the stable as well, before sliding off and moving to follow Casil into the house. He hesitated in the doorway for a moment, surveying the entry room from behind his mask. Things had changed since he had last been in Skyrim. They had not spent much time near Windhelm for him to really take in the small nuances, nor had they passed much on the road that was  _ new  _ to him, but Casil’s house and its decorations suddenly felt very alien to him. It was much better decorated and stocked than what most of the population would have when he last walked the world, and if he hadn’t known better he would have thought Casil came from a place of high power and prestige. Casil was in the main room, moving logs on the fire before starting it up with fire. She moved to work on the candles, before glancing at Miraak.

‘You going to come in or not? You’re letting the cold in,’ Casil signed to him when she got his attention. It was the first thing she’d said to him since their fight.

Miraak closed the door behind him, before finally making his way into the main hall. Casil used a stick to light the chandelier that hung above the table, before moving to light the candles in the various other rooms. A library, a greenhouse, a second floor, and a few back rooms. Miraak walked around the table, trailing a hand over the backs of the chairs that lined the long table that took up the center of the room. A alchemy table downstairs and a enchanting table upstairs. Bedrooms must have been upstairs too. He noticed a cellar door in the kitchen as well.

Casil leaned in the doorway to the kitchen as Miraak made his way around the room, clearly looking over everything very carefully. He picked up a book that was on the table, turning it idly in his hand before setting it back down again to investigate a sword she had hung on the wall. She waited a moment before knocking her knuckles against the wooden doorframe to get his attention. 

‘Your room will be upstairs. Left bedroom, bed closest to the door. It’s technically Sterlas’s but he sleeps in front of the fire most of the time. If you need anything, let me know I guess,’ she signed, glancing at the ground.

Miraak was silent for a moment, before he returned his gaze to the wall. “Here I was expecting for you to tell me to sleep outside,” he mused.

Casil raised an eyebrow, before rolling her eyes. She waited for him to turn to look at her again. ‘I get it. I was immature,’ she said, puffing her cheeks up.

Miraak idly walked towards her, looking over a box overflowing with various journals and papers. “Don’t test me again,” he replied once he reached her, staring her down.

Casil reached up and pushed his mask away. ‘Don’t test me either,’ she replied, before turning away. Miraak grabbed her wrist, pulling her back towards him. She brought her other hand up defensively, glaring at him. 

“Remember why i’m even  _ here, _ ” he growled. “You are spared out of the  _ kindness  _ of my heart.”

Casil snorted and yanked her arm away. ‘You’re here because I freed your sorry ass and I’m the only one who knows the Words of Power to get rid of Alduin,’ she said, giving a somewhat sassy sway to her movements. ‘And if you kill me you can kiss your own ass goodbye when Alduin turns Tamriel into his next dinner. And unless you want to go groveling back to Hermaeus Mora, I suggest you give the one who knows the words a bit of a break.’

Miraak grunted. “Don’t overprice yourself,” he snapped.

Casil stuck her tongue out at him. ‘You’re just mad because  _ you  _ need me too.’ With that, she turned to set up her house skeletons again. 

 

It was strange for him to feel out of place. Tension faded once Jenassa and Sterlas returned inside, and habits returned to relative normality. 

“What time do you plan to leave tomorrow?” Jenassa asked from her seat at the table.

‘At dawn. I want to get there as soon as I can,’ Casil signed from the other side, flipping a page in her journal. 

“Are you sure you don’t want either Sterlas or I to come?” The dunmer asked, worried.

Casil shook her head. ‘You two stay back here. I’ll be fine,’ she said with a wave of her hand.

Sterlas glanced back from his place in front of the fire. “I’m going to sleep on your bed while you’re gone,” he teased, stirring the pot.

Casil shot the werewolf a glare. ‘Don’t you dare, fleabag. If I even so much as  _ smell  _ you on my sheets you get to spend the rest of the year outside in the stables with the horses,’ Casil replied.

Sterlas gave her an ugly grin, looking back to what he was cooking. “Ah, you wouldn’t do that to poor me, would ya? Leave me out there with the wolves,” he whined, feigning sadness. 

Casil gave him the bird, not looking up from her journal.

“Be careful then. We don’t know what Alduin is up to, or how many other dragons might be looking for you,” Jenassa warned.

‘I will be less noticeable as one person,’ Casil replied. ‘And i’ll stick to inns so i’m not out in the open at night.’

The conversation continued, leaving the old dragonborn to ruminate in the silence of the far end of the table. He folded his gloved hands over each other, watching the three interact like a hodgepodge of a family. He felt out of place, and he wasn’t fully sure why it was bothering him. He quickly blamed it on the general sense of not quite belonging on Tamriel yet. It surely must be the cause of over 4000 years spent in Apocrypha, far away in the planes of Oblivion. 

Maybe because everything before him seemed  _ normal.  _ Miraak had sent the cultists that had accompanied him to find a ruin to settle down in. He did not want to draw attention to himself yet, not while Alduin was still around. He had the confidence that he could slay the beast without the help of anyone else, but he did not want to be caught unprepared. He wasn’t  _ that  _ arrogant and prideful. And as much as he hid it, the wound in his chest was still healing. Hermaeus Mora had done a number, and a number that even Miraak could not figure out how to heal faster. The ride over from Windhelm had been painful, but it was easier to hide his discomfort with a mask and the easy excuse to ride aways from the other three. 

Jenassa and Sterlas moved to banter with each other, leaving Casil to look over her journal. The bosmer glanced up to look at Miraak, eyeing him with a mixture of unease and apprehension. Miraak gritted his teeth, before he pushed the chair back and got up. Casil tilted her head as the man turned to leave the building, before she shrugged to herself. He would be back no doubt. She had no need to worry about him.

 

The nights over Tamriel were so much brighter than he had remembered them being. Miraak wandered down the slope that ran next to the house, idly making his way towards the lake. It was cool, but not cold yet. Summer was still in swing, though it was coming to an end. The stars sparkled brightly overhead, a welcomed sight in comparison to the unchanging green skies of Apocrypha. The world seemed much more vivid then he remembered. The trees seemed grander, textures sharper, sounds louder and clearer, smells stronger. There was the smell of pines, of dirt, of mountain flowers, of camp fires, of furs, of  _ food.  _ Crickets chirped, birds sang, water lapped at the shore of the lake, fire crackled, people laughed and talked. He felt like he was discovering it for the first time, like he had been devoid of all of these sensations. Apocrypha had little of anything. The seasons and time never changed. It smelled of musty books and old leather. Rustling paper and the rather unpleasant sloping of the oily black ocean made up a bulk of the sound. Paper. There was so much  _ paper.  _ For a long while, Miraak had kept himself easily absorbed in the endless halls of the Prince of Fate and Knowledge’s dimension, but it did not last forever. Even with the endless trove of secrets and information, there was only so much one could take. He grew bored. He grew tired of it. Time blurred into itself. There was little that was ever new. He kept up on the events of a distant world as they happened, but they might as well have been simply stories. His world was a black and green box where nothing happened, and it slowly drove him insane.

Miraak reached the lakeside. Somewhere, a loon let out its cry into the night. 

His servants sometimes had talked about prisoner mentality amongst the slaves and captives. Miraak would have never understood what they meant by that until he had experienced Apocrypha. Hermaeus Mora took him and put him in a cage like an animal. The first dragonborn had been lured into his trap, and Mora made him jump through hoops as a result.

He pulled his mask off, taking a deep breath of the cool air. 

No, there would be no more of that. He was a free man again. Hermaeus Mora might still be out there, but he would never be the Daedric Prince’s pawn again. He wrote his own fate again, not Mora. And he planned to start by slaying Alduin.

The nord set the mask down on a rock, before pulling off his robes. The cold air made him shiver, which was a sensation he had long forgotten. Apocrypha was lukewarm at best, almost always. A almost irritating level of neutrality. He folded his clothing carefully onto the rock beside his mask, before he wandered out over the rocks. The rocks were rough, cool, sharp at the edges beneath his bare feet. He remembered that he loved to climb them as a child. So long ago.

He walked out to the furthest rock, eyeing the water before he simply jumped in. The cold water hit him hard, knocking the wind out of his chest. He broke the surface, taking a great gasp of air. 

Even the cold water was a blessing he had missed. He would have been absolutely embarrassed to admit that prior to that very moment, he had not been in water like this since days before Hermaeus Mora had snatched him out of Tamriel. Miraak brought a hand up to wipe the water off his face, leaning back to float in the cool lake. 

All he had to do was get the words of power from Casil, and he was truly a free man. Casil. 

Miraak dunked his head under the water again, before surfacing and shaking the dampness out of his short hair. 

He did not fully know how to feel about the woman. His initial thought was that she was  lowly and pathetic, not even remotely worthy of carrying the title of dragonborn. She could not even use the Voice, and she had come groveling to him for his help in a task that been apparently meant for her.

He ran a hand through his hair, floating back again so he could watch the stars.

A tiny, frail mute wood elf, who’s eyes made him wonder if she was hiding an affliction. But he could not deny that she had fight in her, and determination. Fate had handed her a cruel deck of cards, but the woman was playing smart and hard with what she had. Miraak couldn’t help but at least acknowledge it. He was still unsure about his stance on the woman, but she at least had that much going for her. Their relationship had not been long though. Miraak realized that they had initially met a little over a week prior, though for him it felt like a much, much shorter time. 

He let out a long sigh, drifting in the water. It was going to take him a long time to adjust back to the waking world.


	35. XXXV. Hollow Moon

Casil reached High Hrothgar in relatively decent time, and to her great relief she had avoided any dragons along the way. Well, encountering them at least. She had seen several during her journey, and she had a sinking feeling they were looking for her.

The bosmer pushed the doors to the monk’s temple open, letting the howling winds of the mountain blow drifts of snow in. She quickly shut them behind her to keep too much of the cold from getting in.

“Casil? Did you find what you were looking for?” Arngeir asked, surprised to see the small dragonborn so soon.

Casil nodded, walking towards him. ‘I… I need advice on what to do next,’ she admitted on a page of her journal, holding it up to him to read.

Arngeir nodded, looking her over. “We do not know where Alduin is… and before you ask, Paarthurnax does not either. But,” he held up a finger, “another dragon might know. It is said that Dragonsreach was used to trap a dragon in the past. Perhaps that might be of use to you know.”

Casil blinked. Dragonsreach was used to trap dragons? That was surprising news to her. She nodded, writing something else down. ‘Thank you. Could I go talk to Paarthurnax…? I know it’s inconvenient to you, but I need to see if he knows how much more time we might have left,’ Casil wrote, clearly concerned.

Arngeir nodded his head, turning to walk towards the courtyard. “Follow me.”

 

The old dovah craned his neck when Casil and Arngeir made it up to the Throat of the World. It was clear Alduin had done a number on the beast, but the fact that he was alive was enough proof that he had driven the other dragon off.

“Drem Yol Lok, dovahkiin,” Paarthurnax hummed, watching as Casil approached him.

Casil bowed in return, pulling her paper out of her bag now that they had reached the amazingly less windy part of the mountain.

‘I’m glad to see you are still alive. But I need to know how much time we have left.’

Paarthurnax let out a low hum again, raising his neck. “The exact time… I do not know. _Krosis_ . But. Alduin has been weakened. _Rok fen vokrii mulaag._ He must restore his strength. You have bought some _tiid_ , some time. Do not waste it,” he replied. The great beast shook some snow off of his scales. “Tell me, did you find the one whom _hi yah,_ you seek?”

Casil pursed her lips, before nodding.

“I was not aware that a speaker of the Voice who could use such a shout still lived. _Wo daar,_ who is this mortal?” Paarthurnax questioned, head tilted.

Casil swallowed. ‘Just trust me. I’ve found someone,’ she wrote, trying to hide any unease.

Paarthurnax narrowed his eyes slightly. “Hmm, if you insist so. I no doubt will learn of them on my own in due time,” the dragon said, before spreading out his wings. “You have little time to waste, dovahkiin. _Bo voth ven,_ fly with the wind. Do not let Alduin find you,” he said, before taking to the sky.

Casil watched Paarthurnax take off, before turning to walk back to Arngeir. The monk had remained silent as always, but he did not immediately follow.

“I take it you do not trust the person you have found,” he said simply.

Casil glanced up at the older man, silent. ‘I take what I can get,’ she wrote, before shoving the journal back into her bag to indicate she did not wish to talk about the subject anymore.

Arngeir frowned, but followed behind her to clear the way back down to High Hrothgar.

 

“Trap a dragon? Here? In Dragonsreach?”

Jarl Balgruuf was as shocked as Casil had been. She nodded her head. Balgruuf leaned back in his seat, rubbing his forehead as Casil’s words sunk in. The members of his court waited anxiously, hanging on the edge of their seat for his words. Casil felt the same.

He shook his head. “I wish to help you dragonborn, I really do. But I don’t understand. Why let a dragon into the heart of my city when we’ve been working so hard to keep them out? What you’re asking for is insane, impossible!” he exclaimed.

Casil sighed, closing her eyes tightly for a moment before picking up her journal to write in again. ‘It’s the only way to stop the dragons, for good. Once and for all. Alduin has returned,’ she wrote, underlining the last sentence a few time for emphasis. She turned it back to the court that waited before her.

Jarl Balgruuf’s eyes went wide. “Alduin? The World-Eater himself? But… how can we fight him? Doesn’t  his return mean it’s the end of times?” he asked, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. A heavy silence fell on the room.

‘Yeah, if the stories are true. But I don’t plan on laying down and dying. I’m going to fight him to my last breath. What about you?’

The words managed to bring a sort of smile to the weary Jarl’s face. “No Nord could have said it better. I’ll stand beside you, dragonborn. Now, what’s this nonsense about trapping a dragon in my palace?”

‘We need to capture a dragon to find out where Alduin is, so we can find the bastard and get rid of him once and for all.’

Balgruuf rubbed his chin. “I want to help you, dragonborn. And I will. But I need your help first.”

Casil tilted her head, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Ulfric and General Tullius are both just waiting for me to  make a wrong move. Do you think they will sit idle while a dragon is slaughtering my men and burning the city?” He shook his head with a frustrated sigh. “No. I can’t risk weakening the city while we are under the threat of enemy attack, i’m sorry.”

It was a fair point. Casil suddenly wished Ulfric _had_ died at Helgen, and that the Civil War had ended. A part of her felt like this was payback for hoping it’d keep going so she could keep making petty money on it. Casil pursed her lips, tapping the charcoal against her lips in thought. The court murmured around her. She squinted her eyes for a moment, before moving to write.

‘What if you didn’t worry about an enemy attack,’ she wrote.

“Then I would be glad to help you with your mad dragon-trapping scheme. But getting both sides to agree to a truce will be difficult at this point,” he said, tilting his head in thought as well. “The bitterness has gone too deep. Maybe… what of the Greybeards? They are respected by all Nords. High Hrothgar is neutral territory. If the Greybeards were willing to host a peace council… then maybe Ulfric and Tullius would have to listen.”

Casil nodded vigorously. Perfect! ‘I will get them to host the peace council then.’

“Aye, dragonborn,” Balgruuf said with a grin. “Maybe you can stop the dragons. Go now. I will prepare my men, and will be ready for your call.”

Casil felt hopeful for the first time in ages.

 

Casil wondered if she should have gone back to her home first so the others wouldn’t worry about her, but she was on a roll.

“ _A peace council?”_ Arngeir sputtered.

Casil nodded her head rapidly. The monk sighed, clearly very displeased with this idea.

“Paarthurnax has made the decision to help you. This is the road we have to walk. Even the Greybeards must bend to the winds of change, it seems. So be it. Tell Ulfric and General Tullius that the Greybeards wish to speak to them. We will see if they still remember us,” he said after a long moment of thought.

Casil bowed her head in thanks.

Two more to convince to start the council, and then oh so much more convincing to do there.

 

“Wow, Casil going for the peace option eh? Never thought i’d see it in you kid,” Sterlas said after crushing Casil in a bear hug. The woman wormed herself away from him, fixing her robes.

‘As opposed to what, killing a whole side of the war?’ she sighed with a bland look on her face.

Miraak shifted, and she quickly waved a hand to dismiss the thought before the bastard chimed in with his input on the matter.

‘We have a few days to get them, and then it’s the council. So i’m going to write up a pair of letters, and I need you two to run them out to Ulfric and Tullius,” Casil said quickly. Jenassa and Sterlas nodded their heads.

“Let us know when you’ve got those and we will head out immediately,” Jenassa said, moving to start packing. Sterlas nodded in agreement and swiftly went to do the same. Casil grabbed some paper, a quill, and a well of ink and went to writing.

Miraak folded his arms, making his way over to her. “I hope you don’t plan on leaving me behind for this,” he said, leaning back against the table as he watched Casil write. She pursed her lips, finishing the line she was on before she set the quill back into the inkwell to reply.

‘I’m not sure how the Greybeards will feel about you,’ she said, giving him a few moments to reply before she picked up the quill again.

“Tell me,” he turned, placing his hands on the table beside her. He hunched towards her. “Do you _really_ think you can negotiate a peace treaty between these two sides?”

Casil pursed her lips, before sighing. She shook her head, picking up the quill again. No, she didn’t. She was sort of hoping that someone else would work out that little detail, and she supposed that Miraak just did.

Miraak straightened himself out. “I didn’t think so.” He pulled away, moving to sit across the table from her. He watched her write, before extending his hand. Casil looked up in surprise. He motioned for her to hand the paper over, and with hesitation she complied. Miraak took the letter, leaning back in his chair as he read it. He got up, before walking over to grab his own inkwell and quill.

Was he _correcting_ her letter? She stared at him rather incredulously, resting her head against her hand while she watched the mask man make changes to her letter. After a few moments, he handed it back to her. Casil skimmed over the corrections with a hawk’s eye. No, it did read better now. More formal, polite even. She made a face of consideration, before continuing to write. Once she was done, she handed it back to the old priest before going to work on the next one.

And for once, the two did not argue much. It was the closest Sterlas had seen to them working together. Casil wrote the final versions after the two swapped edits back and forth, before she carefully sealed them and handed them off to Jenassa and Sterlas.

‘We’ll strategize while you two deliver the messages. Meet us back here, and then we’ll head out. If any trouble crops up, send a courier or come back right away,’ Casil said as the two left the house.

Jenassa nodded. “You be careful yourself,” she said, glancing over Casil’s shoulder. She didn’t need to look behind her to know who the dark elf was looking at.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Casil said, nodding to Jenassa and Sterlas. The two glanced at each other, before nodding themselves. They tied their gear to their mounts before getting on, and in a cloud of dust they were off. Casil watched the two disappear behind the hill that hid her house from the bulk of the closest road. Now she just needed to survive Miraak.


	36. XXXVI. Locked Out of Heaven

It’d been awhile since the house was so quiet. She forgot how much of a presence Sterlas made when he was around. She shrugged it off though, trying her best to relax and come up with a plan of action for the upcoming peace council.

Miraak largely did not interact with her for the rest of that afternoon, nor did he do much the following morning. She finally broke the silence when she heard a grunt of pain from the upstairs room.

The wound was getting better, but it was still an ugly gash that bled whenever he moved too much or removed bandages. Miraak had managed to pry the last round of bandaging off, and with it a good amount of scabbing that had formed over what wasn’t stitched closed. Casil made her way up the stairs, glancing into his room. The nord wore trousers and had a shirt laid out to the side, clearly not in the mood to wear his robe and mask yet. Bloodied bandages lay in a bucket, and he was using the mirror to inspect his wounds. Casil paused, slightly embarrassed to catch him half undressed in his room, but she finally stepped in. Miraak glanced over to her, brow furrowed.

‘Wanted to check to see if you were okay,’ Casil signed, glancing at the bucket.

He grunted, dabbing some blood up with his fingers before wiping his hand on his pants. “I presume you have more bandages somewhere?” He replied. Casil nodded, moving to her room to grab them. She returned in a moment with bandages and a square of cloth, holding the supplies out to him. He took them, setting them on a night stand before grabbing a bottle of what Casil assumed was some sort of brandy Sterlas bought at some point. He poured some of it onto the cloth before applying it to the wound, causing him to wince. He dabbed at the blood, before throwing the bosmer a look. “Why are you still standing there?” He asked.

Casil felt like she’d just been caught doing something. She shrugged, glancing at her feet.

Miraak rolled his eyes. “You aren’t squeamish, are you?”

Casil glanced up at him, eyebrow raised. ‘I’m a necromancer,’ she signed. She hardly had the chance to finish ‘necromancer’ when Miraak threw the bloody rag at her. She caught it, flinching back in surprise.

“Then _help.”_ Miraak kicked a stool over and sat down so Casil could even reach his back, hunching over slightly as he surveyed his chest. 

Casil blinked a few times, before somewhat awkwardly walking over to him. She grabbed the bottle and poured more liquid out, before curtly slapping the cloth on the gash. Miraak let out a hiss, arching back in surprise before he whipped his head around to glare at her with those oily black eyes. She gave him a sweet smile, peeling the cloth off.

“You’re pushing your luck,” he grumbled, wincing again as Casil dabbed a bit more carefully at the stitching.

Casil tossed the rag into the bucket before leaning over to inspect his stitches closer. It was certainly taking awhile to heal, but it was looking better. Casil grabbed the roll of bandages before handing them to Miraak. The older nord eyed her, taking them before moving to bandage himself up again.

“So. This peace treaty…” he began, carefully raising an arm to get the bandage under it and around his back. “We need this _why?_ ”

Casil moved to sit on the edge of his bed so he could see her. ‘We need to capture a dragon to find Alduin. So the Greybeards suggested using Dragonsreach. But, the Jarl of Whiterun won’t let us catch a dragon in his city with the war raging on out of fear either side will jump him.’

Miraak raised an eyebrow. “...You fully realize that I can-”

Casil shook her head quickly, waving her hands in front of her. ‘No. We aren’t doing that. None of that Bend Will shit,’ she signed.

Miraak looked down for a moment to fix the bandages, before leaning back. “Oh, and why _not?_ ”

‘I don’t _like_ it. We’re going to catch a dragon and we’re going to make it just. Show us, okay? And if we can’t get one that will _then_ you can use that shout,’ she said, frowning hard.

Miraak rolled his eyes, though it was frighteningly hard to tell. He tied off the bandaging, setting the roll aside before he stood up. “You are an _idiot.”_

Casil folded her arms tightly across her chest for a moment, wrinkling her nose at him. ‘I don’t want to get the same reputation as _you._ ”

“Is that supposed to insult me?” he asked idly, grabbing the shirt next to her. He shifted it in his hands, looking down at Casil from along his rather large nose. “You want to try to hold a peace treaty between two warring factions so you can try to trap a dragon in a wood building. Am I hearing your plan correctly?”

Casil nodded her head with puffed cheeks. ‘Yes, it is. And if you aren’t going to go along with that plan, then I won’t teach you Dragonrend,’ she insisted, puffing her chest up.

Miraak pulled the shirt on. “And then we die. Though, I suppose your actions towards me thus far have proven that you have some sort of a death wish,” he mocked, before turning to leave the room.

Casil slid off his bed and followed him, waiting until they had both gotten downstairs to continue their conversation. ‘Just humor me on this, would you?’ Casil signed with irritation.

“Oh, because I haven’t been humoring you on anything else,” he hissed.

‘I get it, you have control issues. Just work with me here. Trust me, if I could do this on my own I wouldn’t have sought out your arrogant ass,’ Casil signed, lifting her chin.

Miraak gave her a condescending look, before he stepped forward. Casil blinked, taking a step back until he had backed her into a wall. He loomed over her, arms folded across his chest. Without warning, he lashed out and grabbed Casil by the neck, lifting her off the ground with one hand. He placed the other by her head, leaning in while the bosmer kicked and squirmed. He shoved a knee between her legs so she couldn’t kick him easily, though he expected her to take a swing at his chest. He stared the woman down, looking her over before locking eyes with her.

“ _Do not treat me like one of your servants_ ,” he hissed lowly, voice like rolling thunder. Casil bared her teeth, gripping the arm that held her throat. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “ _Zu’u lost hind hi aal kos ronit zu’u, dovahkiin. Paak. Losei nid zeim tahrodiis vahdin. Zu’u fod krii hi. Med grohiik wah kiir. Hi nis orin spaan_ _.”_ His grip tightened on her neck, and Casil widened her eyes a bit. He leaned a bit closer, dangerously close. Casil fearfully met his dark, void-like stare. “ _Ni krin zu’u._ _”_ He let go of Casil, pulling back before turning away.

Casil slid back down the wall, rubbing her neck in pain. She reached a hand out, searching for something to throw at him as he walked away. Her fingers fell on a wood plate, and she hucked the object at him. It missed, but it caused him to whip around to face her again.

‘Fine! Fine! If you want to be like this, then fine! Just…’ her hands trembled, and she was a mix between frustrated and terrified. ‘Just tell me what needs to be done, okay? I don’t want this any more than you do. I didn’t _want_ to be the dragonborn and I sure as hell didn’t want to be unable to fucking _do_ anything. I get it. I’m pathetic. I get it okay? Just. Just help me. I don’t want to fucking..’ she threw her hands up, closing her eyes tightly. ‘I don’t want this world to end because of _me._ Alright? I’m just. All i’m really asking is to just. Help me. When this is done, you can leave. Do whatever. I just need help.’ Her arms fell to her side in defeat. She hurt. She had bottled everything up since the start and she wasn’t sure if she could hold it in anymore.

Miraak watched her for a moment, a look of mild distaste on his face. Casil averted her eyes, looking down. She’d seen disappointment. She’d seen fear. But Miraak made her feel worse than anyone else ever had about the ordeal.

“So now you’re going to resort to _groveling?_ ” he sneered.

‘What do you want then, huh? If I stand up to you, you’re mad. If I back down, you look at  me like i’m a disappointing child. What the hell do you want from me?’ She signed, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

Miraak didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and walked into the library without another word. Casil watched in disbelief. She balled her fists up in frustration, before stomping after him.

‘Don’t just fucking _walk away_ from me!’ she signed, tears starting to slide down her cheeks.

Miraak apparently caught the gestures. “Mm, but I will. Go make food or something,” he said with a idle wave of his hand, examining the books on the shelf.

Casil went slack-jawed. _Excuse me?_ She reached over and picked up a broom, before she swung it at him. He brought a arm up and blocked it without bothering to glance at her, using his other hand to move some of the books aside. Casil took another swing, and was met with the same response.

“You know, melee isn’t your strong suit,” he mused, turning his gaze to the next shelf. He grabbed the broom and easily yanked it out of her hands.

Casil wished she could scream at him.

“ _Zu’u lost nid paar ko grah-zeymahzin voth ru-do-fin-golzmeyz jul_ _,”_ he said idly, moving the broom between two of the shelves so he could go back to his browsing. “ _Hofkah kol ol hi dreh."_ he made a ‘tsk tsk’ noise.

Casil felt her chest rise and fall with each frustrated breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared the man down. She tried to take a deep breath, before she turned and walked away. She needed to calm down. She wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. Miraak watched her leave, before turning his attention back to the shelves. She pushed the door open, stepping outside to get a breath of fresh air. She couldn’t fall into his games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **"Zu’u lost hind hi aal kos ronit zu’u, dovahkiin. Paak. Losei nid zeim tahrodiis vahdin. Zu’u fod krii hi. Med grohiik wah kiir. Hi nis orin spaan"** -I was hoping you would be [a] equal match [for] me, dragonborn. Shame. You’re nothing more [than a] treacherous woman. I should kill you. Like [a] wolf [to a] child. You couldn’t even defend [yourself].
> 
> \--> **"Ni krin zu’u."** -Don’t encourage me.
> 
> \--> **"Zu’u lost nid paar ko grah-zeymahzin voth ru-do-fin-golzmeyz jul"** \- I have no desire [in] allying with [a] run-of-the-mill human.
> 
> \--> **"Hofkah kol ol hi dreh."** \- [A] farmer [is as] useful as you act.


	37. XXXVII. Deathbeds

Casil held her head high as the horses made the ascent to High Hrothgar. She could see a few horses higher up and further below. The treaty had spread and drawn in more than just the intended two, which was partially fine with her while also making her scared shitless. Sterlas lead the party with Jenassa at the back, keeping their eyes out for trouble. Lots of important people were making their way up to the monk’s home, and the two bodyguards expected trouble. Miraak rode surprisingly close to Casil, taking to the outside edge of the path. Casil took a deep breath, gripping the reigns of the horse.

“Do not be intimidated by these men,” Miraak said to her, mask tilting slightly towards her.

Casil pursed her lips tightly, nodding her head a bit. For once, it was solid advice she could agree with. The two had their spats while Jenassa and Sterlas delivered letters, but they had come to some unspoken agreement or truce, and that was enough for both of them. Her eyes scanned those still riding up the mountain. She could vaguely make out Jarl Balgruuf somewhere down below, though the others she couldn’t recognize.

“So, Miraak is going to be translating huh?” Sterlas asked, glancing back. Casil nodded her head.

“Your translations are too _blunt,_ ” Miraak said casually.

Sterlas gave a shrug. “I’m just repeating what Casil is saying,” he snapped in defense.

“That’s the problem. We do not have the room for blunders or fighting,” the dragon priest said.

“Yeah yeah, we’ll leave this to your silver tongue, man who has only been involved in this for maybe two weeks who we never knew prior who was stuck in book hell for Divines know how long-”

“Sterlas,” Jenassa  groaned. “Can we all just stop fighting for five seconds.”

Miraak cracked his neck. “Doubt me all you want, redguard. Your ignorance suits you.”

Casil rode her horse between Miraak and Sterlas before they could start fighting. Jenassa pinched the bridge of her nose.

‘Everyone just take a breath alright. Please. You’re stressing me out,’ Casil signed, hunching over. Sterlas glared back at Miraak, but went quiet.

The four breached the ridge to the front of High Hrothgar. Casil had very carefully arranged for a handful of people to take horses at the gate, at least trying to look somewhat professional about the whole thing. They dismounted their horses, handing the reigns to those waiting before heading inside.

A good handful of people were already there. She recognized Ulfric as one of the people. Casil raised her chin, meeting the nord’s eyes.

“So. You must be the dragonborn,” Ulfric said, crossing his arms. The man beside him eyed Casil.

She gave a sharp nod, not slowing down. ‘I thank you for your arrival,’ she signed, to which Miraak translated.

Ulfric glanced between the two before, giving a slight bow of his head. “I have the greatest respect for the Greybeards. I would be foolish not to.”

Casil gave a nod, before she walked up to meet Arngeir. The monk was waiting at the top of the stairs, and looked somewhat relieved to see her there… until his eyes fell on Miraak. Arngeir pursed his lips, taking a step back.

“Is… this the one you were searching for…?” he asked slowly, eyes not leaving Miraak. The group paused at the bottom of the stares, and Casil took a deep breath before nodding. Miraak remained silent. Arngeir took a deep breath, surveying the dragon priest. He was obvious he wanted to say something, but instead the monk was silent. Perhaps it was for the best. He motioned for them to follow. “This way, to where the council will be held. Hopefully we will be able to start soon,” he said, edge in his voice.

The party followed. Casil glanced at Miraak.

‘Are you alright?’

The dragonborn did not look down at her. ‘He is right to fear me.’ It was sloppy, but Casil understood it. She nodded her head slightly, trying not to panic. She had no doubt that after this council was done, Arngeir or worse, Paarthurnax, would have something to say about Miraak. It was obvious that Arngeir had some idea as to who he was.

The room was spacious, with a large circle table at the center. Chairs circled the table, each with a cup in front of them. A fire lit the room from the hole in the middle of the table, and banners with draconic hung on the pillars around the edge of the rooms.

“Are you ready?” Arngeir asked, looking back to Casil. She nodded. He motioned to the head of the table. “Take your seat. I will send the others in as they come.”

Casil took a deep breath, before moving to take her seat. Miraak moved to stand behind her, folding his arms behind his back. Sterlas and Jenassa stepped back, staying near but not obnoxiously close.

Ulfric and his companion were the first to come in. They stood behind their seats, waiting for the others. Ulfric glanced at Miraak and Casil, brow furrowed slightly before he turned his gaze to the door. Jarl Balgruuf came in next, giving Casil a nod. He too glanced at Miraak, but said nothing as he stood behind his seat. The room was silent, and then the other party made it. General Tullius, his advisor, a woman Casil recognized as Jarl Elisif, the previous High King’s wife, and _Elenwen._ Casil narrowed her eyes, but Miraak cleared his throat at her. She leaned back and tried to relax, biting her lower lip. The tension was immediate, and it could have been cut with a knife. The others took up their side of the table, glaring down their opponents. Arngeir stepped into the room, clearing his throat. “So, that should be everyone…”

There was the clinking of armor, before Delphine and Esbern made their way into the room. Casil sunk in her chair, moving to rub her brow. Oh boy.

Arngeir turned to them in surprise, moving to block them. “Who-”

“So, Arngeir is it? You know why we’re here. Are you going to let us in or not?” Delphine snapped.

Arngeir narrowed his eyes. “You were not invited here. You are not _welcome_ here,” he said sternly, staying in the Blade’s path.

“We have as much right to be at this council as all of you. More, actually, since _we_ were the ones that put the dragonborn on this path,” Delphine stated, puffing her chest up.

Casil sunk down more in her chair, closing her eyes in an effort to hide the fact that she was rolling them. Miraak gave a low chuckle behind her, clearly amused by this.

“Were you? The hubris of the Blades truly knows no bounds,” Arngeir muttered.

“If it were up to you, the Dragonborn would sit dreaming on this mountain and doing nothing!”

“Delphine,” Esbern interjected, “we’re not here to rehearse old grudges. The matter at hand is urgent. Alduin must be stopped. You wouldn’t have called this council if you didn’t agree,” he said, aiming the latter at the Greybeard. “We know a great deal about the situation and the threat that Alduin poses to us all. You need us here if you want this council to succeed.”

Arngeir sighed, before stepping aside. “Very well. You may enter.”

The Blades made their way into the room, moving to take up the last two chairs open beside the Stormclock faction. They both eyed Casil and Miraak, but said nothing.

Arngeir sat down at the other end of the table, across from Casil. “So then, let us begin this council of peace,” he said, folding his hands.

The rest took a seat, besides Ulfric and his companion. Casil blinked at them.

“By Ysmir’s beard, the nerve of those Imperial bastards, eh? To think that we would sit down with that… Thalmor bitch. Either she walks, or I do,” Ulfric snapped, motioning to Elenwen.

“I have every right to be at this negotiation,” Elenwen snapped defensively. “I need to ensure that nothing is agreed to here that violates the terms of the White-Gold Concordat,” she said stiffly.

Ulfric looked to Casil. “Are you going to let her stay?”

Casil rubbed her brow, before sitting forward. ‘What does this have to do with the White-Gold Concordat?’ she signed, squinting at the Thalmor.

Miraak repeated the question, which immediately caused Jarl Elisif to jump in.

“I thought we were here to negotiate under the _dragonborn,_ not…” she waved her hand towards Miraak in exasperation, “ _whoever_ this is! Why does she not talk for herself?”

The meeting had been going for the whole of maybe five minutes and Casil was already ready to murder everyone sitting at the table. She folded her hands, leaning forward with a mildly murderous smile on her face.

Arngeir spoke up before Miraak did, surprisingly. “If… I am not mistaken…” he paused, looking the black clad nord over, “the one speaking for our mute friend is Miraak, the _first_ dragonborn.”

Miraak straightened his back out ever so slightly, clearly prideful that Arngeir knew who he was.

“Wait, there are more than _one_ dragonborn?” General Tullius asked, taken aback. “Then why-”

“This meeting,” Miraak said, cutting Tullius off, “is not to discuss our titles. It is to draw a truce between both sides of this war, in order to stop the greater threat,” he said smoothly.

All fell quiet at the table, before nodding their heads.

Pleased, Miraak turned to look at Casil. “That being said, Casil.” It was the first time she’d heard him use her actual name. “Does the Thalmor walk? Or stay?”

Casil eyed Elenwen. The Thalmor narrowed her eyes at Casil. ‘Walks. The White-Gold Concordat has nothing to do with what is at stake here or what will be written. Regardless, unless she wants to kiss her ass goodbye it shouldn’t _matter._ ’

Miraak turned to look at Elenwen. “She wishes for you to leave. Your treaty has no hold in this council and no relevance, nor should any agreement here matter, as the purpose of this council is for the greater good.”

Elenwen narrowed her eyes, before getting up sharply. “Very well. Enjoy your petty victory, Ulfric. The Thalmor will treat with whatever government rules Skyrim. We would not think of interfering in your civil war,” she hissed, before turning to leave.

‘Bullshit,’ Casil signed, though it was lost on all but her own party.

Ulfric waited for her to leave, before he sat down at the table at last. His companion joined him, grumbling something under his breath.

Casil put her arms out to the side. ‘So. Negotiations.’

“With that aside, let us open negotiations,” Miraak said, tempted to swat Casil for being so lax about things.

“We want The Reach, and Markarth. That’s our price for agreeing to a truce,” Ulfric said, clearly feeling like he was on a roll.

“So that’s why you’re here, Ulfric? You dare to insult the Greybeards by using this council to advance your own position?” Elisif snapped, leaning forward.

General Tullius furrowed his brow, rubbing his chin. “Jarl Elisif, I’ll handle this-” he began.

“General, this is outrageous!” She cried. “You can’t be taking this demand seriously! I thought we were here to discuss a truce!”

Casil tented her fingers together, smile growing slightly. _Dear Divines…_

“Elisif! I said i’ll handle it,” General Tullius growled. He looked to Ulfric. “Ulfric, you can’t seriously expect us to just give up Markarth at the negotiating table. You hope to gain in council what you’ve been unable to take in battle, is that it?”

Arngeir cleared his throat and spoke up. “I’m sure that Jarl Ulfric does not expect something for nothing,” he said, glancing to the nord.

“Yes, that would be _entirely_ out of character,” Tullius’s advisor, Rikke, muttered under his breath while he rubbed his temple.

‘I don’t know what I was expecting,’ Casil signed to her companions.

‘Neither did I,’ Sterlas signed back, before returning to his guarding position.

Arngeir looked to Casil. “What would you suggest as a trade then?”

Casil froze up. Oh joy. Being put in the spotlight on matters she hardly knew. Her mind scrambled for a hold the Stormcloaks controlled. ‘The Rift…? That seems like a fair trade to me.’

Miraak wished he had more time to weigh the pros and cons of each hold, but he hadn’t. He begrudged having to take Casil’s word for the fairness of the trade.

“The Rift, for the Reach,” Miraak stated.

Ulfric considered it, before waving a hand. “So be it. The Rift in exchange for the Reach. The Dragonborn has spoken, Tullius. Markarth will be ours. Now we’ll see if there’s anything behind your talk of good faith.”

Tullius narrowed his eyes at the rebel leader, before looking to Casil. “I see where your loyalty lies. I should have figured as much. These are hardly fair terms for a peace treaty,” he snapped, standing up after slamming his hands on the table.

Miraak narrowed his eyes. “Are you questioning the good faith of this discussion…” he began.

“Yes, I am. The deal is off,” Tullius said, turning to leave.

‘I’m going to start everyone on fire i’m going to do it,’ Casil signed, eye twitching slightly. Miraak ignored her.

To her surprise though, Esbern suddenly stood up. “Stop! Are you so blind to our danger that you can’t see past your petty disagreements? Here you sit arguing about… nothing! While the fate of the land hangs in the balance!” he cried.

Ulfric looked to Delphine sharply. “Is he with you, Delphine? If so, I advice you to tell him to watch his tongue.”

Delphine narrowed her eyes back at Ulfric. “He is with me. And I advise you both listen to what he has to say, before you do anything rash,” she said. It was the most sense Casil had heard out of the woman’s mouth.

“Don’t you understand the danger? Don’t you understand what the return of the dragons means? Alduin has returned! The World-Eater! Even now, he devours the souls of your fallen comrades! He grows more powerful with every soldier slain in your pointless war! Can you not put aside your hatred for even one moment in the face of this mortal danger?”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Elisif began.

“Shut up,” Ulfric snapped.

Casil got up and started to stand on the table. Miraak grabbed her by the scruff of her robes and dragged her back, sitting her back down in her seat. “ _Dreh. Ni.”_ He hissed lowly to her. Divines help if those two simple words were not in her draconic repertoire.

“If he’s right about Alduin… we both have just as much to lose here, Tullius. Remember that,” Ulfric said after pausing to watch the smaller dragonborn.

Tullius pursed his lips, before sitting back down. “Don’t hand me a mug of sheep’s piss and call it Colovian brandy. These terms are still not acceptable,” he stated.

Miraak kept a death grip on Casil’s shoulder so she wouldn’t get up and try to set fire to everyone in the room, though he shared the feeling.

Arngeir cleared his throat. “Then, the terms we have so far are an exchange of the Rift for the Reach.” He reminded them, keeping track on a piece of paper.

Tullius spoke up this time. “We want compensation for the massacre at Karthwasten.”

“You slaughtered the very people you claim to be fighting for!” Rikke cried. “True sons of Skyrim would never do such things!”

Ulfric’s advisor, Galmar, slammed his mug on the table. “Damned Imperial lies! My men would never stoop to such methods, even in retaliation for your butchery at-”

Miraak cleared his throat loudly, cutting Galmar off and allowing Ulfric to speak.

“This is our homeland, Tullius. All the blood spilled in this war is on _your_ head,” Ulfric snarled.

Whatever Casil had to say, Miraak ignored it. “The Stormcloaks will pay the compensation,” he stated. Ulfric looked surprised. Miraak didn’t like it, but if it evened out the terms so be it.

Tullius shot a glance at Ulfric. “For once you’ll actually pay for your crimes,” he said.

Ulfric grunted and folded his arms, leaning back. Silence fell over the table, so Arngeir leaned forward.

“Then, the terms to the treaty, as they stand, are as follows: The Imperials will be given control of the Rift, and be paid compensation for the massacre at Karthwasten. The Stormcloaks will be given control of the Reach. Are these terms both parties agree to?” Arngeir asked, glancing between the two men.

“Aye,” Ulfric said, giving a somewhat begrudging nod of his head.

Tullius sighed, before nodding as well. “Yes.”

Arngeir was the last to nod. “Then the treaty is set.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **Dreh. Ni**. -- Do. Not.


	38. XXXVIII. Down With The Fallen

Tullius, Ulfric, and their respective followers left in silence. The remaining parties gave a few moments of awkward silence before Casil spoke up.

‘So, now what?’ she questioned.

“What’s next on the agenda?” Sterlas asked, breaking his serious facade to come to rest his hands by where Casil sat. Miraak shot the wolf man a glare, but said nothing.

Esbern pulled a heap of papers out of his bag, dumping them on the table before starting to sort through them. “While you were preparing the negotiations, I found a scroll that listed the names of all the dragons slain by the Blades. I cross-checked it with the map Delphine made of the Dragon Burials,” he said, shifting until he found the desired pages. He tapped his finger on the burial in question. “You see, dragon names are made up of three words of power. So, I was able to find the name of the next dragon to be resurrected. With this, you should be able to call him.”

Casil blinked. ‘What makes you think he’ll come?’ She asked.

Miraak answered. “He’ll come. He will know my Thu’um. Even if he does not, no dragon would ignore the challenge,” he said simply.

Esbern nodded his head in agreement, giving Miraak a weary glance. “Dragons are, by nature, prideful creatures. I have my doubts that he would ignore this,” he said.

‘So, what is this dragon’s name?’

Sterlas repeated the question.

“It’s erm, Odahviing I believe,” Esbern said, butchering the pronunciation of the name.

Miraak rolled his eyes and corrected him.

Casil nodded though, assuming Miraak had this down then. She looked to Jarl Balgruuf. ‘Are you ready for this then?’

The Jarl nodded his head when her question was repeated for him. “When you are ready, dragonborn. We will be prepared the best we can,” he said.

Casil nodded, taking a deep breath. ‘Give us a few days, week at best. We have some times, if my sources are correct,’ she said. ‘I need to get some supplies ready before we do this, since… I have a feeling that once we get this dragon there will be no more going back.’

Silence fell on the room again, before they all nodded. Balgruuf got up. “Then I will see you there. Good luck,” he said, before heading out.

Arngeir nodded his head as well. “Should you need anything, we will be here,” he said, before turning to leave as well.

Casil got up, watching the Greybeards leave. She moved to leave the room as well, but Delphine stepped in the way.

“We know about Paarthurnax,” she said lowly. Casil blinked, tilting her head away to show she was questioning what the woman said.

“Paarthurnax. The dragon, that the Greybeards have been protecting for all these years,” she said, arms folded.

Casil furrowed her brow, glancing back as her companions stepped closer. She gave a shrug to Delphine. ‘He helped me. What’s your point?’

“That’s fine. We needed his help. But now we don’t, and it’s long past time for him to pay for his crimes. And he’s not just any dragon. He was the right hand of Alduin. He committed atrocities so infamous that they’re still remembered, thousands of years later,” she hissed.

Miraak snorted. Delphine glanced up at him, eyebrow raised. Miraak took a few steps towards the Blade, head cocked to the side. “ _Hi dreh ol dovahkiin los ni dovah. Hi ni mindok hi tinvaak, mey joor kiir._ _”_ He hissed.

Delphine shifted back, putting a hand on her sword before glancing back to Esbern. “What did he say-”

Miraak followed in step. “ _Leave._ You are hardly qualified to speak about these matters,” he snapped.

Delphine narrowed her eyes at him, before glancing at Casil. “He needs to die. He deserves to die. And it falls to you to kill him. Until he’s dead… well, i’m sorry, but we would dishonor our oaths as Blades if we continued to help you.”

Casil narrowed her eyes, before motioning for Delphine to leave. The breton pursed her lips, before spinning and exiting the room.

Esbern sighed, looking between Casil and Miraak. He gave Casil a nod, glancing at the ground before he followed Delphine out.

Casil folded her arms, watching the Blades leave.

“Divines, they really have a stick up their ass don’t they,” Sterlas mused, moving to stand by Casil. He put a hand on his hip. “I take it that’s the last we’ll see of them?”

Casil nodded, letting out a sigh. ‘Let’s get going. I don’t want to waste time. I need more supplies.’

 

The horses had hardly passed into the threshold of Casil’s property when they attacked. Three of them; a blackwing dragon, a spectral dragon, and a magma dragon.

The blackwing dragon swooped down out of a steep dive from the sky above, causing the horses to bolt. Casil fell off her’s, landing in a pile of leaves by the path.

The spectral dragon gave a low chuckle, landing on the roof of her house.

“ _Ful, fin tahrovin sonaak nu nahlaas. Zu’u drey ni prodah siiv hi het voth laat dovahkiin. Pruzah… hi fen ney dir het_ _,”_ the beast rumbled, eyeing Miraak as he tried to get control of his horse.

The Blackwing dragon circled around. “ _Nii fen kos zin brit krii hi ney_ _,”_ it hissed.

Miraak pulled back tightly on the horse’s reigns, turning to look up at the dragon perched on Casil’s roof. “ _Hi los mey sahvot daar hi aal viik zu’u. Hin qeth fen kos dii qah ahrk hin rii fen nahkip dii mulaag, dovah. Hin zeymah drey ni mah zu’u, hi fen kos ney_ _,_ ” the first snarled, drawing his sword.

Sterlas jumped from his horse’s back, rushing to help Casil up as the magma dragon joined in circling.

“ _Pahlok, ol zoor fun. Zu’u fent hevno vaaz hi erei hi nid nuz kip fah ruvaak. Aal hi aus, tahrodiis mun_ _,”_ the fiery dragon roared, before unleashing a stream of fire.

Sterlas pushed Casil into the shelter of the stables, before turning around and shifting into his wolf form. Casil tried to get her bearings, caught completely off guard by the attack. She saw the spectral dragon take off from the roof of her house to join the other two. The trees that lined the path leading away from her house were set ablaze now.

Miraak jumped off his horse. “ _Mul qah diiv!”_ Energy radiated off of the dragonborn. It had been a long time since he had fought dragons. He was ready to change that. The blackwing dragon took a dive at him, talons extended. The man expertly dodged to the side, swinging the sword into the beast’s flank as it passed.

The dragon snarled, landing on the ground. It hit into Casil’s house, causing the building to shake. It wasted no time in trying to nail Miraak with its tail, which he managed to duck under as it swung by.

Sterlas and Jenassa meanwhile were busy with the magma dragon. They tried to lure it away from the house as the beast set fire to everything below him. Jenassa ran as quickly as she could, drawing back arrows before letting them fly at the dragon as it flew by. Sterlas was looking for an opening to jump on it.

Casil did not know where the spectral dragon went. She stayed hunkered down in the stable, fire in her hands as she tried to make out where the third dragon might have gone. It had taken off from her house, then faded away in the sky. She cursed quietly to herself, edging closer to the edge of the stables to look out.

The blackwing dragon swung with its tail again, before moving to take off. Miraak moved swiftly towards it. “ _Gol hah dov!”_

The blackwing dragon let out a sort of strangled howl, suddenly making violent flaps as it tried to escape the power unleashed on it. Miraak calmly strode towards it, grabbing the dragon by its horn to slam its face into the dirt. “ _Hi los nid nuz aar zu’u_ _,_ ” Miraak said coldly, before letting it go. “ _Qahnaar hin zeymah_ _._ ”

Casil watched with wide eyes in mild horror as the dragon raised his head up again, shaking his scales off. “ _Ol hi uth_ _,_ ” it said, before taking to the sky again.

The magma dragon was making its way back around to Casil’s house, not losing sight of the original target, when the blackwing dragon collided with him. The bigger of the dragons sunk teeth and talon into the other, sending them both crashing into the woods.

“ _Zu’u hin grah-zeymahzin_ _!”_ the magma dragon cried, unleashing a breath of fire to try to shake the other one off. The blackwing dragon kept a tight hold of the other’s wing in his teeth, trying to use taloned feet to gore open the other’s belly. The magma dragon managed to hit his new enemy off, struggling to take flight to get away from it. The blackwing dragon moved to take flight and follow, before being hit down by the spectral dragon.

The magma dragon took to the sky, circling as he glared down at the dragonborn below. Casil scurried out to stand beside Miraak, ready to attack.

“ _Sunvaar! Mey! Gruth! Jul ahrk dov fent neh koraav hi ol fron! Aal Alduin du hin nihind rii!_ The dragon howled, before unleashing a bout of flame on Casil’s house.

Casil lunged forward, throwing fireballs at the beast as it razed her home.

“ _Zeymahzin los ni paar, dovah. Pah los nuz aar_ _,”_ Miraak snarled back, unleashing a chain of lightning onto the dragon.

Casil frantically looked for a way to put out the fire. The sounds of the other two dragons fighting echoed through the sky. Fire burned. The magma dragon circled and landed onto the library tower, causing it to crumble under his weight. Casil threw a few badly aimed balls of fire at the dragon, but it paid no mind.

“ _Ag, vokul sonaak!_

The dragon would get little else out. Miraak would take it down with a predator’s grace and ease. The red scaled dragon collapsed to the ground beside the burning house, scales beginning to flake away. The distant battle grew quieter, and Miraak turned his attention over there.

Sterlas and Jenassa watched as the dragonborn calmly ended the enslaved dragon with a practiced stab to the head. He took all three of the souls, before he walked back to the house.

Casil was scrambling for buckets, or something.

“ _Fo krah diin!”_

The ice helped, and so did the light drizzle that started not long after the worst of the fight died down. Between the four of them, they saved the house from being absolutely ruined. The damage had been done though. Casil sat in front of the smoldering home, at a loss for words. Most of the book tower had been ruined. Books lay scattered across the ground, covered in mud or singed, or fully burnt. The roof had gaping holes in it, and much of what was under it was damaged or burned beyond repair. Sterlas sat down beside her, staring as well.

Casil turned her head to look up at Miraak with somewhat fearful, questioning eyes. He did not look back to her.

“ _Mu lost kiin kos feyn dov_ _,_ Casil. Hate them as you hate man,” he said, before moving to walk inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **"Hi dreh ol dovahkiin los ni dovah. Hi ni mindok hi tinvaak, mey joor kiir.”** \--You act like dragonborn are not dragons. You don’t know [what] you speak of, foolish mortal child.
> 
> \--> **"Ful, fin tahrovin sonaak nu nahlaas. Zu’u drey ni prodah siiv hi het voth laat dovahkiin. Pruzah… hi fen ney dir het"** \--So, the treacherous priest is still alive. I did not expect [to] find you here with [the] last dragonborn. Good. You will both die here.
> 
> \--> **"Nii fen kos zin brit krii hi ney,”** \--It will be [a] honor [and] satisfying to kill you both.
> 
> \--> **“Hi los mey sahvot daar hi aal viik zu’u. Hin qeth fen kos dii qah ahrk hin rii fen nahkip dii mulaag, dovah. Hin zeymah drey ni mah zu’u, hi fen kos ney,”** \--You are [a] fool [to] believe that you might defeat me. Your bones will be my armor and your soul will feed my power, dragon. Your brothers did not fell me, [and] you will be alike. 
> 
> \--> **“Pahlok, ol zoor fun. Zu’u fent hevno vaaz hi erei hi nid nuz kip fah ruvaak. Aal hi aus, tahrodiis mun,”** \--Arrogant, as [the] legends told. I shall brutally tear you until you [are] nothing but food for [the] ravens. May you suffer, treacherous man.
> 
> \--> **“Hi los nid nuz aar zu’u,”** \--You [are] nothing but [a] slave [to] me.
> 
> \--> **“Qahnaar hin zeymah.”** \--Kill your brothers.
> 
> \--> **“Ol hi uth,"** \--As you command.
> 
> \--> **“Zu’u hin grah-zeymahzin!”** \-- I [am] your ally!
> 
> \--> **"Sunvaar! Mey! Gruth! Jul ahrk dov fent neh koraav hi ol fron! Aal Alduin du hin nihind rii!"** \-- Monster! Fool! Betrayer! Man and dragon shall never see you as kin! May Alduin devour your hopeless soul!
> 
> \--> **“Zeymahzin los ni paar, dovah. Pah los nuz aar,”** \--Companions are not desired, dragon. All are but servants.
> 
> \--> **“Ag, vokul sonaak!”** \-- Burn, evil priest!
> 
> \--> **“Mu lost kiin kos feyn dov,"** \--We were born to be [the] bane [of] dragons.


	39. XXXIX. Is There Somewhere

They did not have time to do formal repairs. Casil worked on recovering what she could from the damaged book tower and house, while the other three helped to patch the holes and remove the rubble. To everyone’s surprise, even Miraak helped. He left the heavy lifting to Jenassa and Sterlas, but somehow they couldn’t even complain. At least the arrogant bastard was assisting _somehow._

Casil slowly moved books to the basement, huffing as she stuck sheets of paper between the pages of damp books. Years of collecting, damaged and destroyed in a heartbeat. She was glad not all of them had been damaged, but a good number had been lost to the fire and damp, or had been badly damaged. She let out a sigh, rubbing her eyes for a moment. Of course this had to happen now. On top of the damage, it brought up the fact that dragons had found where she lived. She was getting the feeling she’d be returning to smoldering ash if she was lucky.

The cellar stairs squeaked, and Casil glanced back to see who was coming down. She was not expecting to see Miraak, carrying an armful of books. He set them down on one of the makeshift tables Casil had set up, moving to start putting paper between the pages of the damp books as well. Casil looked him over, before shuffling towards the man. He was silent, working with deft hands.

‘Do you think I will have to move. After all of this is done?’ Casil signed, looking down at the book Miraak was fixing.

The dragonborn let out a low hum. “If you _survive,_ you will have more than enough infamy to keep most foolish dragons away. But,” he slotted another page between two pages of a huge tome, “you can move. If you’re a _coward._ ”

Casil rolled her eyes. For once, she wasn’t mad at such a statement. She watched him work for a few more moments, before looking up to him. ‘I want to learn how to speak draconic.’

Miraak raised an eyebrow under his mask, looking to her. “Why?” He questioned.

Casil furrowed her brow, head tilted. ‘I want to know what you’re saying. And if i’m dragonborn I might as well…’ she moved a hand in a circle as she dug for the right words. ‘I might as well know _something_ of that. Especially since I can’t speak.’

Once the last page was placed into the book, he turned to move back up the stairs. “If you make it out of this, then perhaps I will teach you,” he said idly, going to grab another armful of books.

Casil nodded, taking a deep breath before she went to work bringing more books down.

 

“Well, that’s the best we’re going to get if we don’t want to spend all that prep time we were talkin’ about fixing this,” Sterlas said from the roof, surveying the rough patch he had put over the worst of the holes.  He looked down at Casil, who was helping hold up a board to secure the entry between the second floor and the most damaged part of the library tower. “Almost done down there?”

Casil nodded as Jenassa nailed the board down.

“This should be enough. We will have to make real repairs when we’re done with all of this,” the dunmer mused, pulling back so she could check how sturdy the board was.

Casil glanced at the ground. Jenassa was trying hard to be optimistic about what they were going up against. Casil was having a hard time doing the same, or even believing half of what Jenassa said.

Sterlas carefully slid off the roof to the patio in the back, making his way down the stairs so he could get to the side his two companions were working on. “Think we should try heading out today? We’ve still got a decent amount of daylight left. Autumn is rollin’ in but we still have the long daylight hours. We could at least make headway to head to somewhere.”

Jenassa gave a look to Casil.

‘Yeah. The sooner the better. I just need more bodies. More parts,’ Casil signed sort of absentmindedly.

“So you really plan on bringing bags full of bones with us to fight Alduin?” Jenassa asked, eyebrow raised.

Casil nodded her head. ‘I’m going to kill Alduin in a sea of skeletons.’

Sterlas snorted. “So, where do you think we should head?”

‘Towards the Reach. The Foresworn will be easier to pick off and in greater numbers than the bandits I think,’ she said, moving to go inside.

“Should we bring the carriage?” Jenassa questioned.

Casil tapped a finger on her lower lip, pushing the door to the house open before wandering inside. She shook her head. ‘No. It would be too hard to maneuver if we get attacked by dragons again,’ she signed.

“Fair point,” Sterlas grumbled.

‘How many horses are okay to go?’ She asked

“All of them seem fairly fine, honestly. Dragons largely missed em,” Sterlas replied.

Casil was at least happy to hear that. ‘Let’s get packed and going then. I don’t want to waste much more time.’

 

“So. I am guessing you will not tell me the shout until we reach Alduin?” Miraak questioned, watching the sun set over the valley by Casil. She took a bite out of her piece of bread, before nodding. The wind shifted, and she let out a sigh.

‘Do you think we’ll survive this?’ she asked.

Miraak ran a hand through his short hair, leaning back. “Do you doubt our power?”

‘I don’t doubt yours. I doubt mine,’ Casil replied, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“To doubt your power is to die before the battle has even started. Do not doubt yourself.”

 

Sterlas heaved the canvas bag onto the horse’s back, tying it into place with straps. “You know, it’s kinda funny,” he said, shaking his head with a weird grin on his face.

Casil glanced over from her place of sorting what they had raided out of the Foresworn’s camp.

“We’re here to stop Alduin from eatin’ the world, right? And here,” Sterlas laughed, “here we’re slaughtering people ourselves. Fucked up world we live in, huh? Makes you wonder who the real monsters are here.”

 

“So what do you plan on doin’ after all of this?” Sterlas asked, leaning back against his bag as he lounged out on his bedroll.

Jenassa sighed, folding her arms behind her head as she gazed up at the stars. “Divines know I haven’t even considered what to do yet,” she said idly. “A break I think though.”

“Break sounds good. What about you, Casil?”

Casil exhaled, tracing shapes in the stars with her finger. ‘Sleep. Lots of sleep.’

“Aww, not going to back to stealing stuff from the war?” Sterlas teased. He turned to glance at the last party member. “What about you, old man?”

Miraak did not respond right away. He rested his hands on his stomach, watching the stars as well. “Live.”

 

Casil rolled up her sleeves. Things weren’t going to be beautifully clean, but it would have to do. She had managed to organize the bits and pieces by what each was, which would speed up her process.

Sterlas covered his nose. “This is fucking disgusting Casil,” he said, looking over the heap of body parts they had gathered over the previous three days. “If this doesn’t count as a massacre, I don’t know what does.”

Casil shrugged, pulling her knife out before beginning to work.

“Well… if we don’t defeat Alduin, we all die,” Jenassa mused, half trying to justify the gratuitous amount of murder they just committed.

“Yeah,” Sterlas said with a sigh. “Well, let’s get to packing everything else. The sooner we can go the better, I think.” He glanced up at the sky, scratching the back of his head. Leaves were drifting down, slowly beginning their descent off of the branches that held them.

Jenassa looked with him. “Fall’s finally starting to roll in,” she mused.

“It’s weird to think we started all of this almost a year ago,” Sterlas replied, glancing to Casil.

She worked hard, cutting meat away from the bones so they weighed the least possible. A determined look was held on her face. A lot had happened, and in that year their lives had been irreversibly changed.


	40. XL. Identity Disorder

Loniivharin waited for the other dragon to make his move, void like eyes staring at the smaller beast. Nahlotfel stiffened. He had not  moved since the other had lunged at him.

“ _Tiid ru mal, Nahlotfel_ _,”_ the other replied, skin wriggling with black tentacles. “ _Stin zu’u, fen aak hi. Hi fen ni drun nii ko tiid."_

Nahlotfel stepped forward.

“ _Pruzah…”_

Nahlotfel reached out with a wing to the other, trying to grab ahold of them awkwardly. Loniivharin extended his neck, trying to grip the smaller dragon with a wing of his own. Darkness oozed, hissed, sizzled. Tentacles stretched to hold the greater dragon down. Shackles clinked. The void burned against the brown dragon’s scales, leaving black marks where they met his body.

_Ru, ru, ru, ru, ru…._

At last the beast was free from his prison. The darkness dissipated back into the world beyond the mountain. Loniivharin shook himself off, darkness rolling away from his pitch black scales. His wings stretched out, tattered and webbed like decaying flesh. “ _Mindin ful lingrah...Zu’u los stin._ _”_ Onyx eyes fell on Nahlotfel.

The smaller dragon backed away from his ancient brethren, scales hissing under the burning of the darkness.

Loniivharin let out a deep, powerful rumble in his chest. “ _Mu fen wundun nu, mal gein. Un bok ko. Mu fen vosaraan._ ”

His wings returned to the earth, cloud of white drifting up beneath him. Nahlotfel bowed his head to his elder.

 

_Fod mu dreh ni drun?_

They pushed forward, wind howling. The pale light above faltered through the blinding and whirling clouds. Darkness followed at their heels.

 

_Fod mu funt?_

 

Loniivahrin watched the smaller dragon drop to the ground, exhausted. Long tail lashed back and forth as he eyed his lesser.

 

_Los hi paak zu’u?_

 

Nahlotfel let out a tired sigh, powder drifting up in a cloud before his nose as he exhaled. Loniivahrin was going to leave. He knew he was. He would not blame him.

_Zu’u krosis daar los ni hi hind fah._

 

Nahlotfel closed his eyes. Loniivahrin let out a low rumble, before turning back to the smaller dragon. One wing came to shield the younger dragon.

“ _Mu laat. Zu’u wuth, mul, onik. Nuz, mu gein. Hi drey ni ru nol zu’u._ ”

 

_Daarr nunon hahnu._

 

“ _Alok, Nahlotfel. Mu lost nid tiid saan. Nii los ni tiid wah praan nu_ _.”_

  
_“Til los aan rah wah kriin_ _.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Tiid ru mal, Nahlotfel,”** \--Time runs short, Nahlotfel. 
> 
> \--> **“Stin zu’u, fen aak hi. Hi fen ni drun nii ko tiid.”** \--Free me, [and I] will guide you. You will not make it in time.
> 
> \--> **“Pruzah…”** \-- Good
> 
> \--> **“Mindin ful lingrah...Zu’u los stin.”** \-- After so long, I am free.
> 
> \--> **“Mu fen wundun nu, mal gein. Un bok ko. Mu fen vosaraan.”** \-- We must travel now, little one. Our era [is] over. We must make haste.
> 
> \--> **Fod mu dreh ni drun?** \-- If we do not make it?
> 
> \--> **Fod mu funt?** \-- If we fail?
> 
> \--> **Los hi paak zu’u?** \-- Are you ashamed [of] me?
> 
> \--> **Zu’u krosis daar los ni hi hind fah.** \--I’m sorry that [I] am not [what] you hoped for.
> 
> \--> **“Mu laat. Zu’u wuth, mul, onik. Nuz, mu gein. Hi drey ni ru nol zu’u.”** \-- We [are the] last. I am older, stronger, wiser. But we are one. You did not run from me.
> 
> \--> **Daarr nunon hahnu.** \-- This [is] only [a] dream.
> 
> \--> **“Alok, Nahlotfel. Mu lost nid tiid saan. Nii los ni tiid wah praan nu.”** \-- Rise, Nahlotfel. We have no time [to] lose. It [is] not time [to] rest.
> 
> \--> **“Til los aan rah wah kriin.”** \-- There is a god to slay


	41. XLI. Things We Lost In The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's smut time.

It was a sobering thing, the night before they set out. Bags had been packed, the last equipment fixed and readied. They checked everything several times to make sure everything was ready to go. A few things could be purchased in Whiterun if they absolutely needed it, but they did not have the time or money to mess up.

The four sat at the table, silence hanging heavy above their heads like a guillotine. The fire cracked in the fireplace, casting long shadows on the group of men and elves. Sterlas had made them a good dinner, and now they sat in silence with their food finished.

Sterlas picked up his ale, taking a sip as he stared vacantly into the fire.

Tomorrow, there would be no turning back. Tomorrow, they would ride to Whiterun to capture the dragon. And they would go to face Alduin, the World-Eater.

Jenassa leaned back, swirling wine in her glass.

It was very well possible that none of them would be making it back.

Casil stared at the fire as well, slouched back in her chair.

It was very well possible that they would fail.

Miraak ran fingers over his mask, watching firelight reflect off of the golden metal.

And that would be it.

Casil pushed back in her chair, sound of wood scraping on wood breaking the heavy silence. The other three glanced up at her. ‘I’m going to go read upstairs,’ she signed, moving to walk back up the stairs. The three remaining watched the elf ascend to the second floor, passing on the second floor before moving into her room.

Jenassa looked back to her wine, taking a sip. Things had hit them hard. There was no other steps beyond these last few. There was no more avoiding the inevitable.

Sterlas got up next. He slammed back the last of his drink, before shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m gonna go… take a walk. Yeah,” he muttered, passing the length of the table before pushing the door open in the entry way. He stepped out, closing it behind him.

Everyone had their comforts they were going to. Jenassa glanced at Miraak, before getting up. She said nothing as she made her way down into the forge. Smithing wasn’t her strong point, but it gave her something to put her mind to… and anything was better to focus on then the possibilities of tomorrow and whatever lay beyond that.

Miraak was left alone in the living room. He glanced at the direction Jenassa had gone, listening to the sound of the cellar door clunk shut as she dropped it behind her. His eyes glanced to the entry room door next. No doubt the wolfman had gone out to take a run in the night air. It was a tempting call, but his eyes wandered towards the second floor.

He got up, setting his mask down on the table gently before making his way up the stairs to the second floor. Casil had shut the door to her room. He paused at the top of the stairs, hand on the railing as he looked the pale wooden door. A soft exhale escaped his lips, before he proceeded towards the door. It was not locked. A gloved hand turned the knob, pushing it open.

Casil was laying on her bed, idly flipping through pages of ‘The Book of the Dragonborn’. She looked up in surprise when she heard the door open, blinking at Miraak.

Miraak stepped into the room, closing the door behind him as he looked Casil over.

‘Is something wrong? What do you need?’ Casil signed awkwardly, not liking the predatory look the man was giving her.

Miraak cocked his head to the side, striding over to her. Casil closed the book, sitting up.

“ _Hi mindok dii paar_ _,_ ” Miraak purred, a tone that sounded horrendously sweet to Casil. She pushed herself back on her bed as the man stopped in front of her, leaning over to place his hands on either side of her.

Casil turned her head, giving him a somewhat concerned and confused look.

Miraak’s eyes pried over her form. “ _Dreh hi mindoraan… Ful pogaas tiid lost vod. Grik folook faad… grik munax. Ni dreh med hi ni mindok_ _.”_ He reached a hand out, gripping her hip suddenly.

Casil flinched in surprise, squirming out of his grip before quickly pushing herself back further. She could feel her heart start to pound in her chest, eyes wide as she stared at him. Was he..?

He grabbed the edge of her robe, pulling her close again. He loomed over her, placing his hand on her side before his other hand came to tilt her chin up. A slight, somewhat sickening grin curled the edges of his lips upwards, and even in their inky darkness Casil could see the lust. “ _Ni meyz nol zu’u_ _,”_ he said lowly, causing Casil to shiver.

She tried to turn her face away, but he kept his grip. Sharply, he pulled her lips to his. Casil felt her heart skip a beat, and she inhaled sharply. Her hands lashed out to push him away, earning a grunt from him as she scrambled back again. Her chest rose and fall rapidly, staring at the dragonborn like a cornered rabbit.

Miraak frowned. “ _Ni kos med daar, mal dovah. Hi munax vahdin. Mindok hin golt_ _,”_ he hissed lowly, tilting his head again before he pulled her back once more. His lips came to brush against her’s, gaze holding her’s. “ _Ahst ruz suvulaan mu dir. Kos wah zu’u, silyoli, us mu los evenaar._ _”_

Gods she _hated_ that voice. Sweeter than honey. Casil felt her cheeks burn, feeling his hands move to her hips once more. Her frail frame trembled in his grip as his lips met her’s again so pleasantly. Hands shakily moved up to rest on his chest this time instead of pushing him back, allowing him to tilt her back on her bed. His gloved hands caressed her sides as he deepened their kiss, savoring every second of contact.

The sensations were foreign to her, and both exciting and frightening. Her hands moved to grip at the back of his robes, unsure of how to react to his somewhat clumsy and needy kissing. He pulled her closer, bringing one leg to brush up against his side. She felt a bulge press up against her, and she pulled away in embarrassment. Her eyes cast to the side, bringing her hands up to cover her bright red cheeks.

Miraak gave a low chuckle, grinning as he moved to cup her face in a hand after he pulled one of her’s away. Her eyes nervously glanced back at him as he ran a leather clad thumb over her lips. “Not used to this?” he purred, smirking.

Casil’s cheeks burned brighter, and she puffed her cheeks up in absolute bashfulness. He leaned forward again, this time moving to kiss along her neck. The elf let out a soft sigh, bringing a hand up to rest on the back of his neck. The nord pulled on her robes, awkwardly untying the sash around her waist before pushing the outfit off over her shoulders. His teeth gently brushed against her skin, feeling her shiver violently against him. Oh, it was _arousing._ He couldn’t take it.

He pushed her back, fumbling to pull off her blouse that she wore under the robe. Casil suddenly scrambled to try to stop him, but she certainly was not strong enough to overpower him. Her hands came to cover her chest, looking to the side again as her heart raced. Miraak pulled his gloves off, tossing them to the side before he untied his own robe. He let it drop, before gripping Casil’s hands and pinning them above her head. His lips returned to her skin, leaving hot, voracious kisses and nips from the nape of her neck along her collarbone.

Casil’s head spun. She hardly let people even hug her. This was a entirely new experience. Miraak’s fingers traced up her side, savoring the feeling. How long it had been since he had the chance to enjoy such carnal pleasures. He slid his hand roughly to her pants, hooking a finger on them before he pulled them down and off.

The bosmer managed a muffled whine, squirming again as she pulled her legs together. Miraak pulled his lips away, shaking his head as he pushed a hand between her thighs roughly.

“ _Nid, nid. Til fen kos nid do daar_ _,_ ” he panted, licking his lips as he stared down at Casil. “ _Zu’u fen wahl hi dii. Dii. Dreh hi mindoraan daar? Mahfaeraaki. Dreh ni qahnaar zu’u daar. Zu’u paar hi_ _.”_ He pushed his hand up between her legs, causing Casil to arch back slightly as he did so. Her closed her eyes tightly, lips parted slightly as she gave shallow breaths. His fingers came to brush up against her lower region, and she jerked away slightly at the touch. New. New and frightening. Miraak let out a throaty hum, breathing hard against her. “Don’t be difficult,” he said lowly, rubbing her slit.

Casil buried her face into her arm, letting out a quiet moan. Miraak grunted, before pulling his hands away from her to pull his own pants off. She opened her eyes to look at him, and half regretted it immediately. She had seen him shirtless before, thanks to his wounds, but fully naked was certainly more than just that. He did not give her much time to look over his body before he pushed her back on the bed again, gripping her hip and using the other one to bring a leg up around his side. The bosmer stared up at him with wide eyes, holding her breath for a moment. He did not waste time.

Casil jerked up and latched onto his shoulders as he entered her in one fluid and powerful stroke. There was a slightly mangled gasp of pain, and if that wasn’t enough of any sort of clue the death grip she had on him would be enough. Miraak let out a rumbling groan as he pushed into her tight form, but his groan was quickly interrupted by a surprised hiss of mild pain from her nails. He didn’t move as Casil held onto him, body pressed up against his as she shook violently. Her breathing was sharp against his shoulder, feeling some tears well up in her eyes. He had not been expecting this sort of reaction. By gods did he want to keep moving and sate his own desires, but Casil’s grip made that quite hard. He let her linger there for a moment, before trying to shift his hips against her. Her grip tightened until he pulled largely out of her, and the dragonborn stopped to look down at the woman with a furrowed brow.

“You… haven’t been with a man before, have you?” He asked, holding her hips in his hands.

Casil let out ragged breaths, bringing her hands to cover her chest again as she once more turned her gaze to the wall. Slowly she nodded her head, biting her lower lip.

A low hum rumbled in his chest again, before he leaned over her once more. He brought his lips to her’s in a surprisingly gentle kiss. He shifted her body under him, propping her up against her pillows before he slowly re-entered her. Casil inhaled sharply again, wrapping her arms around his back tightly.

“Relax,” he murmured into her ear after pulling away from their kiss. Casil squeezed her eyes closed, trying to nod against him. She buried her face into his shoulder, biting her lower lip as he eased himself deeper. His body shuddered as he fought back the urge to relentlessly pound the small woman. He propped himself up by placing a hand on the headboard of her bed, slowly starting to thrust into her.

Casil inhaled sharply each time he pushed himself into her, and while it was uncomfortable it was… she didn’t know how to describe it. He felt his fingers dig into her thigh as he pulled her hips against his’. His chest vibrated against her body when he groaned. She shifted her grip on his broad shoulders, before trying to grind her hips back against his.

The older dragonborn grinned a bit, taking this as a sign that he could be a bit faster and rougher. She hooked a leg around his hips, nuzzling her face into the hair on his chest.

“ _Geh, geh… pruzah vahdin_ _,”_ he breathed, bed creaking under each movement. He pushed her back against the bed a bit more, moving so he could hunch over her and thrust deeper. Casil managed a squeak, wincing in pain again. He took less notice this time and didn’t slow his pace. It’d been 4000 years. She was so _tight._ He licked his lips again, leaving kisses up and down her neck and chest. He gripped her leg and pulled it further up, allowing him deeper access. Casil arched back against him, managing a moan. It was uncomfortable still with his ferocity and his girth, but the pain was starting to fade out finally. Her hands came to rest in his short hair, giving a somewhat pleased sigh finally. His pace picked up, and his grunts became somehow deeper. It was sweet music to her ears. Everything spun and felt fuzzy, before suddenly her body stiffened up. She let out a sharp gasp, arching into him as she orgasmed for the first time.

Miraak mumbled some slurred words in draconic as he swiftly pounded into Casil, shifting to give him the best angle he could manage. His body gave a violent shudder as well, and after a few more shallow thrusts he pulled out and emptied onto her stomach. Her cheeks burned, holding onto him tightly as they came down from their high.

Miraak pulled away after a few moments to look down at the younger dovahkiin. She was shaking pretty bad, and had pulled her hands up to her chest as she gazed up at him with half lidded eyes. The nord leaned over to give her a kiss, before pulling away to get off of the bed. Casil watched him for a moment, before awkwardly shifting her gaze to what he had left on her. Miraak shifted through some of her drawers until he found a cloth, using it to clean himself off before returning to Casil to do the same. There was blood, but he was not surprised given what he had found out. Casil let him wipe her clean, before he tossed the rag aside.

To Casil’s surprise, Miraak got into bed with her. He pulled her close, lying down beside her. Casil froze up for a moment, before she relaxed and snuggled up into his chest. Idly, her fingers traced what remained of his wound and the scars that had formed as a result. His fingers brushed through her hair, letting out a long, deep sigh.

“Go to sleep. Dawn will be here soon enough,” he murmured, leaving a peck against her forehead.

Casil let out a soft exhale, shuddering lightly against him. She wanted to ask questions, but Miraak seemed already to be drifting off to sleep himself. She closed her eyes. Maybe it was better not to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Hi mindok dii paar,”** \-- You know my desires.
> 
> \--> **“Dreh hi mindoraan… Ful pogaas tiid lost vod. Grik folook faad… grik munax. Ni dreh med hi ni mindok.”** \-- Do you understand… so much time has passed. So tormentingly warm… so cruel. Don’t act like you don’t know.
> 
> \--> **“Ni meyz nol zu’u,”** \-- Don’t turn from me.
> 
> \--> **“Ni kos med daar, mal dovah. Hi munax vahdin. Mindok hin golt,”** \-- Don’t be like that, little dragon. You cruel woman. Know your place.
> 
> \--> **“Ahst ruz suvulaan mu dir. Kos wah zu’u, silyoli, us mu los evenaar.”** \-- At [the] next dusk we die. Be with me, my soul fire, before we [are] extinguished
> 
> \--> **“Nid, nid. Til fen kos nid do daar,”** \-- No, no. There will be none of that.
> 
> \--> **“Zu’u fen wahl hi dii. Dii. Dreh hi mindoraan daar? Mahfaeraaki. Dreh ni qahnaar zu’u daar. Zu’u paar hi.”** \--I will make you mine. Mine. Do you understand that? Mine, forever. Do not deny me this. I desire you.
> 
> \--> **“Geh, geh… pruzah vahdin,”** \--Yes, yes… good woman.


	42. XLII. Halo

She did not expect for him to still be there in the morning. He was awake, but he had not moved. Casil shifted in his arms, reaching a hand up to rub her eyes. Miraak gave out a rumbling hum.

“ _Pruzah vu, mal dovahkiin_ _,_ ” he purred, placing a kiss on her temple. Casil rubbed her eyes a bit more, before squinting at him. She reached a hand up to place on his face, almost checking to see if he was really there. He snorted, pushing her hand off of his face. “Yes, hello to you too.”

Casil shifted in his arms, before stretching. She was _sore_. ‘Did we really…?’ she began to sign, furrowing her brow a bit.

“Have sex? Yes,” he said flatly. Casil puffed her cheeks up, feeling them burn red. She raised her hands to speak again.

The doorknob turned, before the door was pushed open. “Casil, have you seen Mi-” Sterlas froze in the doorway, looking between the two. Casil pulled the blankets up to her chest, face flushing even redder. Sterlas squinted, and Miraak glared at him. The redguard whirled and closed the door behind him. There was a pause, before the dragonborn could hear a audible ‘ _holy shit_ ’ from behind the door, followed by the sound of the werewolf hurrying off down the stairs.

“Jenassa! Jenassa you won’t believe me-”

Casil slowly sunk into the sheets and pillows in embarrassment. Miraak rolled his eyes and slid out of the sheets. “It seems it’s time to get up. We have… a long day ahead of us,” he said, returning to his usual cold self. He moved and picked up his robes, slipping his clothing back on. Casil watched him from under the covers until he unceremoniously left the room, before she awkwardly slid out from under them as well. Her legs shook a bit, and she paused.

Had she just… let him get to her that easily? Her brow furrowed, tightening her grip on the sheets as she let the events of the previous night sink in. She’d never had anything against… _that_ … but the idea that Miraak, of all people, had such a relatively easy time of getting into her pants like that was… strange to her. She rubbed her neck, wincing a bit. She took a step towards the mirror, and huffed at the sight of a trail of hickies along her neck.

Bastard. She moved and grabbed her clothes, sliding them back on. Her first and perhaps only time fucking someone was going to be with that arrogant son of a bitch. Casil cursed herself for getting so flustered and wrapped up in… in…

She paused as she adjusted her sash. In what? Was it the vague hope or wondering if he felt something for her? Or was it the laughable attempt Casil was making at hiding her own interest in him?

She glared at her reflection in the mirror, grabbing a few things for her bag before she exited the room as well. Stupid.

 

Sterlas and Jenassa were busy packing the horses, though it was obvious the two were quietly discussing what Sterlas had just seen once they were out of earshot of either dragonborn. Miraak sat at the table, calmly and nonchalantly having some of the remains of the breakfast Sterlas had made. Casil made her way down the stairs, setting her provisions down on the table before grabbing herself the last of the food. She took a seat as far from Miraak as she could, trying to hide how flustered she was. She didn’t do a good job.

Jenassa even had to raise a hand to cover her mouth when she came in to grab one of the last  bags of supplies. Casil ignored everyone else, shoving food angrily into her face. Miraak glanced at her, eyebrow raised.

“If you eat too fast, you’re going to get sick,” he mused, taking a bite of his own food.

Casil made a face at him. ‘Don’t patronize me,’ she signed angrily. She noticed Sterlas and Jenassa muttering to each other, and she threw the glare to them next. ‘Can it you two.’

Sterlas just smirked. “Sorry, I never thought i’d see the day you’d get some. I-i mean, I knew you could but you know-” he stammered after correcting himself.

Jenassa rolled her eyes. “Well, the last of the bags are packed into the carriage. When you’re ready, we should get moving,” she said, folding her arms and leaning in the doorway.

Casil shoved the last of the food in her mouth, grabbing her things and shoving them in her bag before she pushed past Sterlas and Jenassa to get to her horse.

Sterlas glanced over his shoulder at her, before looking to Miraak. Miraak gave the werewolf a warning glance, and the redguard gave a shrug and stepped out to get on the carriage. Miraak grabbed his last things, pulling his hood up before putting his mask on. Jenassa waited until he had stepped out before she moved to lock the door. Casil pulled herself up onto her horse, looking at her house.

For all she knew, this was the last time she’d ever see it.

 

Fall was starting to roll in. Leaves fell in larger numbers, a shower of oranges and yellows as they traveled the roads towards Whiterun. The sky was cloudy and threatened to rain, and a cool breeze blew down from the mountains.

The journey was quiet. They left each other to their own thoughts, each trying to make peace with whatever they might have left unfinished. Casil was tempted several times to just turn and bolt. She could just ride to the border, and be gone. She could just forget about all of this. Maybe Alduin wouldn’t eat the world. Maybe someone else would step up. Maybe Miraak could do this on his own. He didn’t need her anyways. She could tell him the word, and be gone.

The bosmer gave the nord a weary, tired glance as their horses trotted down the path towards Whiterun. The city lay in the valley below, close. Too close. His mask was fixated on the road ahead of them, paying her glances no mind if he could even see them. Her slender fingers came to tighten the reins tighter, and at last she turned to look back at the path as well. Casil took a deep breath, tilting her chin up a bit. No, she had to do this. Maybe it was her destiny after all.

 

Nobody was expecting the hoard of people that had gathered outside of the gates. Word had apparently spread, and people from all across Skyrim and perhaps even further had gathered outside of the walls of Whiterun. Tents and caravans scattered the roadside leading up to the gate, lined with people of all races, genders, ages and walks of life. People began to gather at the edge of the road when someone first spotted them, and by the time the four had reached the first farms that hung outside of the edge of Whiterun, they were greeted by hundreds of face. The four looked at the many people who had come to see them off. There was cheering, please to stop the evil, choruses of thanks, prayers in many languages to many deities. Flowers rained down in great showers. Children ran beside the horses, holding up bouquets for the heroes. Amulets and tokens of good luck were strung onto them and their horses as they walked. The crowd parted for them.

Casil looked around at everyone with wide eyes.

Casil, Miraak, Jenassa and Sterlas were their only hopes. The fate of the world rested in their hands. If they failed, all of these people would fall with them.

Sterlas smiled and waved to the people, greeting them. Jenassa even smiled.

It felt like a funeral procession to Casil though. She silently glanced to Miraak and wondered how he felt.

The people thinned out as they neared the gate. The great wooden doors swung open for them. The inner streets of Whiterun too were lined with its civilians. Casil took a deep breath, trying not to show her fear. She recognized face of people she had talked to and done business with as she passed. The horses and carriage were allowed in, and the group carefully made their way up to Dragonsreach. The guards greeted them and lined the path, making sure nothing happened to the party before they could reach their destination.

The carriage pulled up to the stairs before Dragonsreach. The four dismounted, and the guards took their steeds as they headed inside. Servants were ordered to move the bags inside as well. The doors to the Jarl’s palace swung open, and they breached the hold.

Jarl Balgruuf waited inside, arms folded. He nodded his head to the party as they entered. “So, it’s time to snare the dragon then?” He asked.

Casil took a deep breath, pausing in the middle of the hall as she looked to the Jarl in his throne. She nodded.

Balgruuf got up, motioning for them to follow. “We are ready then. This way.”

The four followed him up a set of stairs that ran to the right of the building, and out onto the Grand Balcony. A great stretch of stone made a domed rectangle, which was largely covered by a great wooden ceiling. A walk ran along either side of it, and the beams above held a huge yok. Casil eyed it as they walked under it. That must have been how they were going to capture the dragon.

The Jarl paused as they neared the end of the covered space, turning to face them. Irileth stood beside him, hand ready on her weapon. “When you are ready. My men await your signal to capture the beast. Just lead it in,” he said, opening his arms out wide. He stepped back.

Casil looked to the section of the balcony that was actually uncovered. ‘Sterlas, Jenassa. Wait back here,’ she signed to them, glancing over her shoulder.

The two nervously looked to each other, before nodding. They moved back towards the sides of where the yok would drop, Sterlas hanging out near one of the extra levers to adjust it was.

Miraak folded his arms, glancing at Casil. “Are you ready?” He asked simply.

Casil looked up at him, taking another deep breath. ‘No Bend Will unless I say so, got it?’ she signed.

He grunted, before walking forward and to the edge of the balcony. He rested his hands on the wood railing, hunching over to eye the sky. Casil joined him. Evening was beginning to roll in, but they still had some daylight.

“There is no turning back after this,” he reminded her, not turning to face her.

Casil gritted her teeth. She knew. He knew she knew.

Miraak stepped back, turning to face the sky. “ _Od ah viing!”_ The power rippled out through the sky, echoing further than any normal shout would. It echoed like thunder through the clouds, before dissipating. There was silence, and the only change was a slight breeze that sent leaves rolling across the balcony.

Minutes passed.

“Did it work?” A guard asked from the walk, shifting uncomfortably as he eyed the sky from under his cover.

“Give it time. Odahviing must fly from wherever he is,” Miraak said calmly, folding his arms as he searched the sky as well.

“What if he doesn’t? What if this doesn’t-” The guard  began.

“Quiet,” Irileth ordered. The guard promptly shut his mouth.

A few more minutes passed, before there was a rumbling roar. “ _Miraak! Hi tahrodiis sonaak!"_

Miraak seemed rather pleased with himself. He coolly drew his sword, taking a step back until he could spot the very rapidly approaching dragon. “Move back,” he told Casil, spinning his sword in one hand. She shot him a slight glare, before turning and hurrying back inside.

Odahviing let out a stream of fire once he was within range. Miraak countered it with Unrelenting Force, parting the fire out of his way. The dragon roared in anger, circling back around. Miraak took that as a chance to back up slightly. Odahviing let out another stream of fire. The priest moved back so the fire hit into the wooden ceiling instead.

Balgruuf shot him a glare. “Please don’t _try_ to burn this place down!” he snapped, moving to the side to avoid the fire himself. Miraak ignored him.

“ _Nikriin! Bo krif zu’u!_ Odahviing roared, landing on the roof. He craned his neck to peer under the cover, letting out a blazing blast of fire as he crawled down to the ground level.

Miraak threw up a ward, parting the brunt of the fire as he stepped back to lure the dragon in. All others scattered to the sides to avoid the blaze, taking cover behind whatever they could.

Odahviing did not let up his stream of fire as he followed Miraak in, spines raised up along his back in anger. Casil pulled herself off to the side so she could avoid the blast but still make out the dragon and see the guards. She quickly looked between the dragon and the yok above, before raising her hand to the nearest guard on the walk.

The guard nodded, pulling a lever. The sound of chains grinding echoed the room, and the heavy piece of wood dropped down onto Odahviing. His stream of fire was cut off, and he let out a grunt of surprise.

“ _Nid! Horvutah med kodaav._ Caught like a bear in a trap…” Odahviing growled, trying to shove the yok off of himself. It was surprisingly too heavy. His dark eyes looked to Miraak. “ _Zok frini grind ko grah drun viiki, sonaak_ _,”_ he hissed. “ _Zu’u laan naal laat nii daar losei mulhaan het_ _.”_

Miraak sheathed his sword, folding his arms before he walked towards the beast. Odahviing waited until he was close before trying to grab him in his maw, but Miraak pulled just out of the beast’s range. Casil moved to Miraak’s side.

‘Don’t harass him,’ she signed at the priest. Odahviing turned his attention to Casil.

“ _Wo aal hi kos…?_ _”_ he asked, sniffing. The was a low rumble in his chest. “Ah, so you are the dragonborn…” He shook himself, causing the yok and chains to rattle violently. “ _Zu’u bonaar_ _._ You went to a great deal of trouble to put me in this… humiliating position. Even without _his_ help,” Odahviing growled, looking to Miraak again. “ _Hind siiv Alduin, hm?_ No doubt you wish to know where Alduin is? _”_

“ _Geh,”_ Miraak grunted.

Odahviing narrowed his eyes at Miraak. “ _Zu’u ni laan hi, kiir_ _"_ he growled. “I am asking _the_ dovahkiin.” He turned his attention back to Casil.

She swallowed, before nodding. ‘Yes, we wish to find Alduin. Do you know where he is hiding?’

Miraak calmly repeated the question. “ _Geh, mu hind siiv Alduin. Dreh hi mindok kolos rok vonun?”_ Before Odahviing could snap at him again, he interjected. “ _Ahrk geh, Zu’u los tinvaak fah ek. Dovahkiin lost ni zul, ni Thu’um_ _.”_

Odahviing lifted his head slightly at that. His attention turned back to Casil. “Ah. So, this is why this… _traitor_ stands beside you. Strange. This was not what I was expecting. No, I wondered if perhaps your Thu’um would be strong… but you have none at all.” His tail swished.

Casil pursed her lips, glancing down and to the side. ‘And here I still stand.’

“ _Het zu’u mulhaan kriist.”_

The was another rumble from the red dragon. “Many of us have begun to question Alduin’s lordship, whether his Thu’um was truly the strongest. Amongst ourselves, of course. _Mu ni meyye._ None were yet ready to openly defy him. _Unslaad krosis._ Innumerable pardons. I digress,” he shifted in his prison. “He has travelled to Sovngarde to regain his strength, devouring the _sillesejour…_ the souls of the mortal dead. A privilege he jealously guards…”

Casil frowned. ‘How do we reach there?’

Miraak did not repeat her question, allowing the dragon to continue.

“His door to Sovngarde is at Skuldafn… no doubt _you_ recall where that lies,” he growled to Miraak. “Now, since I have answered your question, will you allow me to go free?” he asked Casil.

Miraak did not let Casil speak. “ _Hi fen bo mu til,_ ” he demanded. Casil gave him a questioning look, but Odahviing let out a low chuckle.

“Ah, yes… There is one detail about Skuldafn I neglected to mention. Without wings, you will never set foot in Skuldafn. Of course, I could fly you there. But not while imprisoned like this… no.”

‘Then you will fly us there. If you promise to do so, I will let you free. If I can _trust_ you,’ Casil signed.

“ _Ruz hi fen bo mu til. Fod hi vaat dreh ful, rek fen stin. Fod, rek ov hi.”_

Odahviing chuckled. “ _Zu’u ni tahrodiis, med rok_ _._ It was you that lured me here and took me prisoner… _vobalaan grahmindol_ _._ I have done nothing to earn your distrust. You have trusted him, so I do not understand such hesitation to trust me.”

Miraak shifted in irritation, which amused the dragon.

‘You tried to walk away without telling me we needed to fly there,’ Casil signed angrily.

Miraak made his own response. _“Dreh ni med Zu’u mey, dovah. Hi ko nid golt wah dreh grik_ _.”_

The dragon’s eyes narrowed a bit, before he shook his scales. “You will release me - _ro laan_ \- if in return I promise to take you to Skuldafn and stop helping Alduin?” he mused. “ _Onikaan koraav gein miraad_ _._ It is wise to recognize when you only have once choice. And you can trust me. _Zu’u ni tharodiis._ Alduin has proven himself unworthy to rule. I go my own way now. Free me, and I will carry you to Skuldafn.”

Casil let out a sigh of relief. She nodded, motioning for the guards to release Odahviing.

Miraak and Odahviing stared each other down. “ _Gruth mu, Zu’u fen zorox hi dii zaam_ _,”_ Miraak hissed.

“ _Tahrodiis sonaak dreh med hun. Zu’u neh mindol grik sul aal meyz. Ov hi mal ruz hi ov zu’u. Fen bo hi Skuldafn, sonaak, ruz hind daar mu neh grind._ _”_ Odahviing replied coldly. “ _Zu’u hind daar Alduin du hin zii, ful hi dreh ni mindol aal meyz ruz thur. Nid dovah uv jul aal qiilaan wah hin rel."_

“ _Mu fent koraav_ ,” Miraak replied with equal coldness, folding his arms before turning away.

The yok rose off of Odahviing, and he shook himself off. “ _Faas nu, zini dein futhi ahst vaal._ _”_ He craned his neck t o look down at Casil and Miraak. Sterlas and Jenassa moved cautiously to stand behind them, looking up at the dragon with wide eyes. He focused his attention on Casil. “ _Saraan uth._ I await your command, as promised. Be sure you are prepared. I will be able to drop you off, and from there you are on your own,” he said.

Casil looked back to the other two, as well as the bags that were now being brought in. She pointed to her companions and the bags. ‘I need you to carry them too, and those.’

Odahviing did not need a translation. He shook his head, baffled. “ _Zu’u los nid key!_ You do not expect me to be able to carry all of that, do you?” he asked in surprise.

‘Call another dragon then,’ Casil signed.

“ _Bel zeymahzin, dovah._ ”

Odahviing’s eyes narrowed, before he turned. He walked back out to the balcony, and Casil half expected him to just take off. “Leave their will as their own,” he said, before raising his head to the sky. “ _Sos vahzen miin!”_

Casil folded her arms, moving to stand beside the red dragon as his call echoed through the sky.

“We question Alduin’s rule no longer,” he rumbled, turning to look down at Casil. She gave the dragon a nod, taking a deep breath.

A roar soon echoed over the valley, and a dark red dragon came to join them. “ _Drem yol lok, Odahviing._ ” the dragon rumbled, hovering a few feet from the balcony before he came to land on the railing. It crumbled under his weight, but he paid it no mind. The dragon’s yellow eyes surveyed Casil, before returning to Odahviing.

“ _Sosvahzenmiin, dovahkiinne hind bo Skuldafn. Alduin fen mah,_ ” Odahviing said to his companion.

Sosvahzenmiin lowered his head towards Casil, before glancing behind the other dragon. “ _Dovahkiinne….?_ ” his eyes fell on Miraak, who still lingered in the shadow of the wooden cover. “ _Ov rok onik_ _?”_

Odahviing chuffed. “ _Mu lost mal miiraad. Laat dovahkiin nis kod ek Thu’um. Lot krosis. Rok nunon gein._ _”_

Sosvahzenmiin shifted his weight back and forth between feet, seeming a little anxious. “ _Rinik pruzah. Zu’u ov miiraadiil, Odahviing. Draal daar feni kopraani. Dinok rel zu’u fod rok horvutah_ _.”_

Odahviing turned to look at Casil, nodding his head. She motioned for the bags to be brought. The two dragons both took turns examining the weight of the bags in their talons, before the decided who would take what. With that, Odahviing lowered his neck.

“Are you ready to see the world as only a dovah can? _Zok brit uth!_ I warn you, once you’ve flown the skies of _Keizaal_ , your envy of the dov will only increase,” he mused.

Casil gave a look back to those waiting in the shelter of the roof. The Jarl gave her a nod. She took a deep breath once more, before turning to climb onto Odahviing’s neck.

Miraak grabbed her and helped her up. “You are riding with me,” he told her, hopping up behind her with ease. A arm came to protectively wrap around her waist while the other one gripped one of Odahviing’s spines for support.

Sosvahzenmiin lowered his neck as well, chuckling. “ _Hi lost meyz faadfen, wuth dovahkiin. Lost daar laat gein horvutah yoliil_ _?”_

Casil blinked at the other dragon, not really getting most of what he said. She felt Miraak’s grip tighten on her though.

“ _Nahlot,”_ Miraak snapped.

Odahviing even chuckled this time. “ _Hi pook do hin gron_ _.”_

“ _Laat! Nahlot! Uv Zu’u fen gron hin jot fah hi_ _!”_

Both dragons seemed more amused than afraid. Sterlas and Jenassa mounted the other dragon, glancing to Casil in confusion as to what was being flung between the two dragons and their former priest. Casil made a shrug. Hell if she knew.

Odahviing stretched out his wings, causing Casil to jolt forward and grip his spine as well. “ _Amativ! Mu bo kotin stinselok!_ _”_ Odahviing roared, before he took to the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **"Hi tahrodiis sonaak!”** \-- You treacherous priest!
> 
> \--> **“Nikriin! Bo krif zu’u!”** \-- Coward! Come and fight me!
> 
> \--> **“Zok frini grind ko grah drun viiki, sonaak,”** \--My most eagerness [to] meet [you] in battle brought my defeat, priest.
> 
> \--> **“Zu’u laan naal laat nii daar losei mulhaan het.”** \-- I question by [what] ends it is that you’re still here
> 
> \--> **“Wo aal hi kos…?”** \-- Who might you be?
> 
> \--> **“Zu’u bonaar."** \-- I am humbled.
> 
> \--> **"Zu’u ni laan hi, kiir,”** \-- I am not questioning you, boy.
> 
> \--> **“Ahrk geh, Zu’u los tinvaak fah ek. Dovahkiin lost ni zul, ni Thu’um.”** \-- And yes, I am speaking for her. The dragonborn has no voice, no Thu’um.
> 
> \--> **"Mu ni meyye.** \-- We are not fools.
> 
> \--> **Zu’u ni tahrodiis, med rok.** \-- I am not treacherous, unlike him.
> 
> \--> **Vobalaan grahmindol.** \-- Unworthy stratagem 
> 
> \--> **“Dreh ni med Zu’u mey, dovah. Hi ko nid golt wah dreh grik.”** \--Do not act like I am a fool, dragon. You are in no place to do so.
> 
> \--> **“Onikaan koraav gein miraad"** \-- Wisdom sees the one doorway.
> 
> \--> **“Gruth mu, Zu’u fen zorox hi dii zaam,”** \--Betray us, and I will make you my slave.
> 
> \--> **“Tahrodiis sonaak dreh med hun. Zu’u neh mindol grik sul aal meyz. Ov hi mal ruz hi ov zu’u. Fen bo hi Skuldafn, sonaak, ruz hind daar mu neh grind.”** \--Treacherous priest acting like a hero. I never thought such a day might come. I trust you as little as you trust me. I will fly you to Skuldafn, priest, and then I pray that we never meet.
> 
> \--> **“Zu’u hind daar Alduin du hin zii, ful hi dreh ni mindol aal meyz ruz thur. Nid dovah uv jul aal qiilaan wah hin rel.”** \-- I hope that Alduin devours your soul, so that you do not think you might become the next overlord. No dragon or man might bow to your rule.
> 
> \--> **“Mu fent koraav,”** \-- We will see.
> 
> \--> **“Faas nu, zini dein futhi ahst vaal.”** \-- Fear not, my honor holds my rage at bay.
> 
> \--> **“Sosvahzenmiin, dovahkiinne hind bo Skuldafn. Alduin fen mah"** \-- The dragonborns wish to fly to Skuldafn. Alduin will fall.
> 
> \--> **“Ov rok onik?”** \-- Is trusting him wise?
> 
> \--> **“Mu lost mal miiraad. Laat dovahkiin nis kod ek Thu’um. Lot krosis. Rok nunon gein.”** \-- We have little choice. The last dragonborn cannot use her Thu’um. Great sorrow. He is the only one.
> 
> \--> **“Rinik pruzah. Zu’u ov miiraadiil, Odahviing. Draal daar feni kopraani. Dinok rel zu’u fod rok horvutah.”** \-- Very well. I trust your choice, Odahviing. Pray that my will remains mine. Death rule me if he ensnares me.
> 
> \--> **“Hi lost meyz faadfen, wuth dovahkiin. Lost daar laat gein horvutah yoliil?”** \--You have become warm-willed, old dragonborn. Has this last one captured your fire?
> 
> \--> **“Hi pook do hin gron.”** \- You stink of your bond.
> 
> \--> **“Laat! Nahlot! Uv Zu’u fen gron hin jot fah hi!”** \- End! Silence! Or I will bind your maw for you.
> 
> \--> **“Amativ! Mu bo kotin stinselok!”** \- Onward! We fly into sky’s freedom!


	43. XLIII. Carnivore

The flight was much different than the one she had taken in Apocrypha, and a bit more terrifying. The world rushed away under them, and soon Whiterun was nothing more than a speck below the clouds. Wind howled around them as they flew, and the setting sun cast their shadow on passing clouds. Casil had a hard time relaxing until Miraak shifted his hold on her, making her feel much safer. She slowly relaxed, leaning against him.

It was beautiful. The snowy peaks of mountains peered out of the clouds like islands. The sun made the fluffy pillars a orange-purple color. Sosvahzenmiin flew a bit further back, but Casil could see that Jenassa and Sterlas felt the same as her. Amazed and scared shitless. It would be incredibly easy for either dragon to simply turn and drop the mortals off their back to their death.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

Casil looked back to Miraak in surprise as he spoke. His gaze was focused ahead. She nodded her head after a moment, very slowly trying to push some hair out of her face as it blew in the wind.

‘Must really be something after being in Apocrypha for so long, huh?’ Casil signed painstakingly slow to keep her balance.

Miraak shifted his hold on her again, a sign she wasn’t quite sure how to interpret.

“...I was wrong to have doubted you, Casil. I’m… glad you’re here,” he said quietly. Casil could not clearly make out what he said over the sound of the wind, and she wasn’t sure if she believed what she had heard. The cold metal of his mask pressed into the back of her neck slightly, before pulling away as he returned to silence again.

 

Night had fallen by the time they approached Skuldafn. The ruins lay far up in the mountains, shrouded by clouds. The roar of approaching dragons drew Casil’s attention, and she could make out the shapes of their enemy take flight from the ruins.

“ _Krosis._ I will not have long to land. Hold on, and be prepared to dismount quickly,” Odahviing rumbled. Casil nodded, gripping the spines on the dragon’s back tightly. Odahviing gave a few more mighty beats of his wings as a few dragons began to approach, before he took a steep dive to try to fly under them. One of the dragons let out a stream of acid from its maw, which Odahviing expertly avoided. Miraak pinned Casil down against the dragon’s neck to avoid the worst of the turbulence, gripping her tightly. Sosvahzenmiin spewed fire as he approached one of the opposing dragons. One of the dragons extended his claws, trying to grab Odahviing.

“ _Iiz slen nus!”_ Miraak shouted. Ice formed on the dragon, causing it to snarl as it was weighed down. It missed Odahviing, crashing into the forest below. Odahviing did not waste the opening to try to gain altitude again, aiming for a outcropping of rock that lay near the ruins. He managed to reach it, dropping the bag on the ground before landing beside it. He lowered his head.

“ _Bo,_ now. Waste no time,” he said, spreading his wings again once Casil and Miraak had managed to get off. He took to the sky again, releasing a torrent of fire at one of the incoming dragons. “ _Aal dez kos voth hi_ ,” he said, before he rapidly flew away from his attackers.

Sosvahzenmiin dove down and nearly swept the two dragonborn off their feet as he came in for a sliding landing, dropping the bag and hardly giving Jenassa and Sterlas a chance to get off before he took to the sky again as well.

The four did not get much chance to group up and figure out their plan. Dragons circled, roaring as a few of their brethren took off after the two traitor dragons. Casil could make out the glowing eyes of hundreds of draugr start to pop up along the walls, followed with the threatening pounding of weapons on shields.

“We do not stop until we are in Sovrngarde, do you understand?” Miraak said, drawing his sword.

“Are you crazy? We’ll be exhausted by the time we get to Alduin then-” Jenassa began.

“We will rest when we get there, _if_ we get there,” Miraak snapped. “We will not live long if we linger here. There are too many for us to take down reasonably.”

Sterlas sighed, before nodding. He turned into a werewolf, grabbing the bags and shoving them under the cover of some of the crumbled ruins.

“They will be brought to us when the gate is open,” Miraak said, before turning his attention to the sky as he surveyed the selection of dragons. He picked out a legendary dragon circling, and the man made no hesitation in using a chunk of fallen ruin to close his gap between himself and his target.

Casil threw up a ward, pushing off the worst of a stream of ice brought down by a dragon as it strafed the bulk of the party. Sterlas  bounded down the path, and Jenassa followed behind Casil as they pushed forward to some cover.

“ _Gol hah dov!”_ Miraak shouted, snagging the legendary dragon in his power. The beast snarled, flapping violently for a few moments before it circled lower. “ _Hi fen spaan mu hin laat su’um, dovah!_ _”_ Miraak snarled, sliding off of the broken pillar to dive behind another. A sharp blast of wind sliced through the stone he had previously been standing on, and the dragon that had tried to attack him let out a roar of rage.

Casil covered her ears as ice crashed onto their cover, followed by a stream of fire. Jenassa drew her bow, watching carefully for a opening before she jumped out and let loose her arrow. “Go! Get to the next cover!”

Sterlas wasted no time in grabbing Casil, throwing her onto his back so he could bound ahead. Miraak followed behind, knocking a dragon from the sky with Ice Form again. His legendary dragon took another one down, sending the two beasts careening into the ruins. A cloud of dirt and dust followed, and then roars from both parties. Casil used it as a chance to look ahead.

Skuldafn was a tiered layer of ruins, with doors leaning in and out of each level. Arches waterfalled down, which were being used currently for some perched dragons or for draugr archers. A rain of arrows fell down on Casil and Sterlas, and she let out a silent curse. The arrows clattered against the rocks as Sterlas tried his best to dodge the bulk of them, but neither made it out without their wounds.

Casil gasped in pain as an arrow hit into her shoulder and thigh. Sterlas had a few of his own, but the dog kept running. Casil gritted her teeth, trying to fight through the pain before she threw a slew of fireballs at the draugr. Some hit and some didn’t, but none of the draugr fell.

Miraak and Jenassa followed up the back, Jenassa using her shield now to block the arrows while Miraak let out brilliant flashes of lightning at the draugr and a handful of the dragons that circled in to attack. Casil turned to look ahead of them again, eyes darting to find somewhere to go. A door. That had to be the way. There weren’t any obvious stairs to the next level. She motioned for Jenassa and Miraak to follow, before directing Sterlas to their next destination. He shoved his way through the doors before another rain of arrows could hit them, and Miraak blocked Jenassa and himself from it with a Unrelenting Force. Jenassa pulled the doors behind them, before turning to realize that the inside was no better. She suddenly understood why Miraak told them not to stop. The inside was only slightly better than outside because of its lack of dragons, but in replacement was a swarm of draugr.

This was the last push. There would be no stopping now. The party readied their weapons. It would not be easy.

 

By the time they neared the top, the light of the rising sun was starting to reach across the sky. Floor after floor. Room after room. The skeletons of dragons littered the ruins along with the corpses of draugr. Weapons and arrows scattered the ground. A few dragons still circled, not letting up on their attacks. The four were _exhausted,_ but they could not stop. The passing hours had been a blur of blood and sweat.

Casil leaned against a pillar, panting as she gripped another arrow wound in her side. Miraak let out a shout, knocking a handful of draugr off the edge to the ledges below. Sterlas was limping, but the werewolf tore the limb off of another undead. Jenassa let an arrow fly into one of the dragons, earning a snarl from the beast.

Casil could see the top nearing. She took a ragged breath, moving to push her way up the stairs. She unleashed a stream of fire from her hands, pushing back some of the weakening draugr in front of her.

Miraak noticed the other dragonborn trying to stagger up the stairs, and moved to join her. He noticed her gripping the arrow in her side, and moved to stand in front of her. “Hold still,” he said lowly, moving to break the arrow off so it wouldn’t protrude out so far. Casil winced, inhaling sharply. They all had at least a handful of arrows still stuck in them, and were just hoping to make it through until they had the chance to sit down and carefully remove the arrowheads. He tossed the shaft of the arrow aside, before pushing forward again.

A dragon dove down to attack, before being taken out by one of the now three dragons Miraak had ensnared. The control of the three beasts was wearing him down, but it was giving them a fighting chance against the dragon onslaught. Each soul he absorbed from the fallen helped push him forward, and he even allowed Casil to take some to refuel her own strength. Jenassa and Sterlas held up the back. They had long since stopped trying to slay every enemy they had encountered, and resorted to just trying to push them back long enough to proceed.

Casil let out a pained sigh of relief when she at last could see what she could only assume was the portal to Sovngard itself. Brilliant light shot out of the ground, reaching up far into the sky. A small patch of stones lead up to a platform, on which was some sort of staff-like key. And before that, was a masked priest.

They grabbed the staff, turning it and yanking it out of its hold. The light fizzled away slowly as the portal to Sovngarde closed, before the priest turned to face them.

Miraak stopped at the top of the stairs.

“Miraak,” the priest hissed.

Miraak gave his sword a spin, taking a step forward. “Nahrkiin. _Hi mulhaan aam het._ ”

Nahrkiin drifted down the stairs, floating a few inches off the stone. His thin, mummified hands gripped the staff. “ _Geh, nimed hin tahrodiis kos. Zu’u hind daar Vahlok kiraan hi fah pruzah. Nid, dinok zeim hi, ni? Mindol, sahvot pruzaan ruz un thur._ ” There was the sound akin to spitting from the lich. “ _Mindin pah daar eruvos. Paak meyz daar. Zu’u zin hi ont. Mindol, mun kiin voth sos do dov, ney un sahrot thur, gahvon grik ofan unt rel niin_ _.”_

Miraak tilted his chin up, taking a step forward again. “ _Mey. Zu’u los lot ruz hi, nust ful mey aam_ _,”_ he growled, striding forward to meet the other dragon priest.

Nahrkiin drifted forward, fire sprouting up in his hand. Electricity crackled around Miraak’s free hand in return.

Casil staggered off to the side, gripping her wound as the two rival priests stared each other down.

“ _Hi vodahmin, Miraak. Folaas. Ahraan ko vod tol fent kos govey. Pahlokiil oblaan het, gruth. Lost hi onik ol sahvot, aal vonun mulhaan ko ahmikdo daar deyra._ _”_ Nahkriin said coldly, mask nearly touching the other’s. His head tilted slightly, indicating he was looking to Casil. “ _Daar bok ni hin. Nii neh lost,ahrk nii fen ni nii kos. Daal vodahmin vod, paak do sonaak. Fin lein fen meyz laat, nid dovahkiin aal oblaan daar. Ni hi, vu, ahrk ni suvulaaan_ _.”_

Miraak let out a low chuckle. A dark chuckle with an angry edge. “ _Zu’u stin nu. Mindok suleyk nol deyra, nuz nu Zu’u los zeim daar. Dov kreh Zu’u us Vahlok grah. Dein daar miiraad lingrah vod tiid, nunon hi_ _vahzah. Tiid do dov ko. Enook laat dovah fen mah wah Zu’u. Ahrk fod fin lein fent hon, ahrk fod fin lein fent koraav, ahrk fod fin lein dahmaan, daar lein fen laat kos._ _”_

The fury of blows exploded with such sudden ferocity that Casil flinched violently back from it. Shouts clashed against each other, sending the users back across the platform. Neither wasted time in exchanging shots and closing the gap. Even the frail undead mage dared to get up into Miraak’s face, using the staff-key with surprising grace as a shield against Miraak’s sword. Spells flew back and forth with lightning speed. Sparks flew. Embers whirled around them. The two priests snarled at each other in dovazul between shouts, though Miraak’s Thu’um was clearly far stronger than Nahrkiin’s.

Casil struggled to work the arrow out of her gut, taking cover behind a wall. Below Jenassa and Sterlas still struggled to hold off draugr that continued to empty out from the ruins.

Nahrkiin’s upper hand played to being far less tired than his opponent. Miraak pushed forward, but the other priest was well aware that his strength was faltering. “ _Dilon, lir. Aal hin zii kos gorvey nol kopraaniil wah sahlo dovahkiin, ahrk all hi ney grind sosaal Alduin jot!_ _”_

Miraak snarled. “ _Wah Oblivion voth hi!”_ His sword locked with the staff, and with a push of strength he managed to dislodge it and send it spiraling to the ground.

Casil lurched out and grabbed it. Nahrkiin hissed, jerking towards her. Miraak lashed out and grabbed the priest by his robes, wasting no time in plunging the blade into the chest of the other. He shoved the blade up through Nahrkiin’s ribs with a loud cracking noise. The priest went rigid, and Miraak pulled him up until their masks almost touched again.

“ _Dii nunon krosis ko krii hi, zeymah, los daar Zu’u nis naak hin zii med sahlo sunvaar hi aam."_ The words left Miraak’s throat like venom, and he watched as the lich crumbled away in his hands. The metal, clothing and mask fell to the ground in a pile of ash.

Casil gripped the key, shakily waiting to make sure Nahrkiin was dead before she slowly made her way towards Miraak. The remaining priest crouched to pick up the mask, gripping the edge of it tightly. He tucked it into his robes, before extending a hand to Casil for the key. She handed it to him, unsure of if she should say something to him as he made his way to the lock. The first placed the key into its place, turning it. Casil watched as a circle of stone suddenly fell away, allowing light to pour back out of it.

Miraak turned to survey the sky. “ _Drun zu’u qeth!_ ” he commanded to the sky, hoping that at least one of his remaining dragons would be able to fulfill his command. He leaned on the key, breathing hard under his mask. Casil checked over her shoulder to make sure Jenassa and Sterlas were alright, before she slowly made her way towards Miraak.

‘Are you alright?’ she signed to him cautiously.

Miraak’s shoulders rose and fell as he caught his breath. His response was merely a grunt of irritation at the question. One of the dragons brought both of the bags up in its talons, and Miraak pointed to the portal. The beast dropped them off into the portal, before taking to the sky again. Miraak turned to look towards the remaining two.

“We move forward!” He snarled, before stepping into the portal. Casil took a deep breath, making sure the two followed before she closed her eyes and jumped in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Aal dez kos voth hi,”** \-- > May fate be with you.
> 
> \--> **“Hi fen spaan mu hin laat su’um, dovah!”** \-- You will defend us until your last breath, dragon!
> 
> \-->“Nahrkiin. Hi mulhaan aam het.” -- You still serve here.
> 
> \--> **“Geh, nimed hin tahrodiis kos. Zu’u hind daar Vahlok kiraan hi fah pruzah. Nid, dinok zeim hi, ni? Mindol, sahvot pruzaan ruz un thur.”** \--Yes, unlike your treacherous being. I had hoped that Vahlok had killed you for good. No, death is beyond you, is it not? To think, you believe you better then our lords. 
> 
> \--> **“Mindin pah daar eruvos. Paak meyz daar. Zu’u zin hi ont. Mindol, mun kiin voth sos do dov, ney un sahrot thur, gahvon grik ofan unt rel niin.”** \--After all those years. Shame it has come to this. I honored you once. To think, a man born with the blood of the dragons, alike to our mighty lords, surrender such a gift to try to dominate them.
> 
> \--> **“Mey. Zu’u los lot ruz hi, nust ful mey aam,”** \--Fool. I am greater than you, and those I so foolishly served.
> 
> \--> **“Hi vodahmin, Miraak. Folaas. Ahraan ko vod tol fent kos govey. Pahlokiil oblaan het, gruth. Lost hi onik ol sahvot, aal vonun mulhaan ko ahmikdo daar deyra.”** \-- You were forgotten, Miraak. A mistake. A wound in the past that must be removed. Your arrogance ends here, betrayer. Had you been wise as you believed, you might hide still in the service of that daedra. 
> 
> \--> **“Daar bok ni hin. Nii neh lost,ahrk nii fen ni nii kos. Daal vodahmin vod, paak do sonaak. Fin lein fen meyz laat, nid dovahkiin aal oblaan daar. Ni hi, vu, ahrk ni suvulaaan.”** \-- This era is not yours. It never was, and it will not it be. Return to the forgotten past, shame of the priests. the world will come to its end, and no dragonborn may end that. Not you, dawn, and not the dusk.
> 
> \--> **“Zu’u stin nu. Mindok suleyk nol deyra, nuz nu Zu’u los zeim daar. Dov kreh Zu’u us Vahlok grah. Dein daar miiraad lingrah vod tiid, nunon hi vahzah. Tiid do dov ko. Enook laat dovah fen mah wah Zu’u. Ahrk fod fin lein fent hon, ahrk fod fin lein fent koraav, ahrk fod fin lein dahmaan, daar lein fen laat kos.”** \--I am free now. I know power from the daedra, but now I am beyond that. Dragons bent to me before Vahlok fought me. Guard this door of a long gone time, but you are right. The time of dragons is over. Every last dragon will fall to me. And when the world shall listen, and when the world shall see, and when the world remembers, that world will end to be.
> 
> \--> **“Dilon, lir. Aal hin zii kos gorvey nol kopraaniil wah sahlo dovahkiin, ahrk all hi ney grind sosaal Alduin jot!”** \-- Die, worm. May your soul be removed from your body to the weaker dragonborn, and may you both meet punishment in Alduin’s maw.
> 
> \--> **“Dii nunon krosis ko krii hi, zeymah, los daar Zu’u nis naak hin zii med sahlo sunvaar hi aam.”** \-- My only sorrow in killing you, brother, is that I can’t eat your soul like the weak beasts you serve.
> 
> \--> **“Drun zu’u qeth!”** \-- Bring me the bones!


	44. XLIV. It Has Begun

The world was sucked around her. Space contorted. She felt the strangest sensation tingle at her skin. Lights flashed behind her eyelids, and suddenly the world spun back. Casil jerked up, eyes flying open as she sat up. The sky shimmered in a dance of beautiful purple and blue lights, auras sparkling in front of stars. The clouds circled around a single bright orb that hung up somewhere far in the sky. It was not the sun. It was something else. Something kind, calming. A soft breeze rustled Casil’s hair and clothing, and caused the grass and field of flowers before her to gently bend. A heavy mist lingered over the valley before her, and mountains and trees towered up to the sides. A few statues peered up through the mist as well as a hill with what appeared to be a broken word wall, and far in the distance she could make out the vague shape of a grand building. Miraak stood before her, arms crossed as he waited beside the bags.

The bosmer pushed herself to her feet, glancing behind her as Jenassa and Sterlas made their way into the nord afterlife as well. The two glanced around with equal awe as they came to, and Casil turned to stand beside Miraak. She followed his gaze, and noticed what he had been watching.

Alduin. The dark shape of the dragon was visible backed with the purple-blue of the auroras above. She took a deep breath, reaching a hand up to timidly grip the edge of his sleeve. Miraak did not respond, breeze rustling his robe. Jenassa and Sterlas got up stand beside the two dragonborns.

“So this is Sovngarde, huh?” Sterlas asked in a hushed tone.

Casil nodded, jaw tense.

Miraak finally turned to look to Casil. “Teach it to me.”

Casil flinched, looking to him in surprise. She inhaled sharply, gritting her teeth. ‘Not until we get to the other side. To the Hall of Valor.’ She recalled the place in her research. The nordic heros would reside there, and perhaps even the three who sent Alduin forward in time.

Miraak suddenly laughed. Casil flinched back more. “And if you die in that mist?” He hissed. Casil stared him down, trying to keep her breathing calm.

‘The others-’

Miraak grabbed her by her collar, dragging her towards him. Casil winced in pain as her clothing tugged on the arrow shafts still embedded into her shoulders.

“Hey!” Sterlas tried to pull the two apart, but Miraak shoved the werewolf aside.

“Don’t make me _laugh_ ,” he hissed. Casil furrowed her brow up at him, fighting back a grimace of pain. She made no reply, staring defiantly up at the other dragonborn. Miraak tightened his grip, causing the leather to squeak against itself. “Tell. Me. The. Words.”

Casil tried to shift in his grip, inhaling sharply as one of the arrow shafts contorted. She shook her head, too afraid to bring her arms up much more to reply. She could vaguely make out his glare through the slits of his mask, but to her surprise he let go. Miraak turned and headed towards the mist.

“So be it,” he hissed. “If you are wise, you’ll get moving before Alduin notices us.”

Casil swallowed hard. Miraak really swung between his kindness and his hatred for Casil, and it scared her. She looked to Jenassa and Sterlas, before moving to try to grab one of the bags.

“I’ve got it,” Jenassa said, motioning for the girl to go ahead. The dunmer and werewolf grabbed a  bag each, before slowly beginning to haul them into the cover of the mist. “Is this normal?” Jenassa asked lowly as they walked. The mist was thick enough so you couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead of you, and the group stayed close together to avoid losing each other.

“This is Alduin’s doing, to trap the souls of fallen warriors,” Miraak replied, the furthest ahead. Casil could hardly make him out through the fog, which made her nervous.

Jenassa threw the bosmer an uneasy glance of her own. Miraak suddenly paused, before moving to the side. He quickly motioned for the others to lie low. The remaining three stepped off to the side as well, crouching down under whatever cover they could find.

The sound of beating wings passed overhead, stirring the mist into whirlwinds. There was a cry a few moments later as Alduin picked up another prey trapped in his snare.

‘Why hasn’t he found us yet?’ Casil signed to Miraak, holding her breath.

‘We aren’t dead,’ Miraak signed back, surveying what little of the sky he could make out.

The sound of wings beating passed near by again, and the four sunk back slightly more. A deep, rumbling chuckle echoed out. “Come out, little mortals. You cannot hide from me,” Alduin mused, flying low just pass the party.

Casil glanced to her companions. Miraak waited until the sound of Alduin’s wings had faded away again, before he motioned for the party to get moving. They stayed low to the ground, crouching as they moved as quietly and carefully as they could through the mist. Casil couldn’t even tell if they were going the right direction. There was a path here, but she felt like they had gone in circles or backtracked a few times. The mist was disorientating. They got a decent ways again before the wings came close, and they shrunk off into the cover of a small grove of trees.

“ _Dovahkiin, Zu’u mindok losei het… Hi, nahlot kiir wo grik mey kod zin dovah_ _,”_ Alduin growled.

Miraak stiffened, and Casil could hear him inhale sharply.

Alduin chuckled again, circling dangerously close. “ _Zu’u mindok losei het, Miraak. Meyz krii hin thur ahst laat?_ _”_

Casil threw the nord a glance, as did Jenassa. Miraak watched the shadow of the dragon circle, before edging forward ever so slightly. “ _Zul mey gut! Hi nid thur do dii_ _.”_ He hissed, using Throw Voice to echo his response from a different area. The dragon swerved to turn towards it. There was the sound of Alduin landing, and Miraak motioned for the group to quickly start moving away.

“ _Krosis, hi vahzah. Zu’u lost folaas. Hermaeus Mora thuriil nu, rok ni? Nid, orin daar folaas… Lost hi qiilaan grik golt ol wahl nizul fahliil ol drogiil nu?_ _”_ Alduin mocked, the sound of his scales scraping against the stone audible to the party.

Casil gripped Miraak’s sleeve before he tried to turn to reply. She did not understand really what Alduin said, but she did not need to. Hermaeus Mora’s name was mentioned, and Miraak visibly was bothered by what was said. That was enough for her. She pointed ahead. She could make out the lights of the Hall of Valor in the distance through the fog. Miraak gritted his teeth, before moving to make the last push.

Alduin let out a low growl, before taking to the sky again. “You will not defeat me, _joor._ Soon, your souls will fuel my strength.” The sound of his wings beating picked up again, before the beast took off into the distance again.

Jenassa let out a sigh of relief when the dragon appeared to have left. “That was close,” she said lowly, hauling the bag quickly across the ground as they neared the edge of the fog. Casil nodded in agreement, eyes wearily scanning the sky in case Alduin had not really left. The fog at last parted, and the four stumbled out onto the edge of the field that spanned between their starting point and the Hall of Valor.

The Hall of Valor was a miraculous building, towering into the sky. Lights danced in the windows, and music could be heard from inside. A giant ravine circled the castle, dropping into clouds and eventual nothingness. The only thing that spanned the gap was a great bridge made of a full whale skeleton. A man stood before the bridge, battle axe strapped to his back. His attention had fallen on the four that had just emerged from the mist. Casil glanced to her companions, before stepping forward.

“What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here, in Sovngarde, souls-end, Shor’s gift to the honored dead?” the nord asked, rather surprised to see that of the three he could distinguish before him, none were nords.

Casil made a motion to the field of fog behind her.

“We pursue Alduin,” Miraak replied for her, stepping up behind her. “Who are you?”

The man eyed the two. “I am Tsun, shield-thane to Shor. The Whalebone Bridge he bade me guard and winnow all those souls whose heroic end send them here, to Shor’s lofty halls where welcome, well earned, await those I judge fit to join that fellowship of honor. A fateful errand, though. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde’s threshold. But Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught - perhaps, deep counselled, your doom he foresaw.”

Casil swallowed hard at that, gripping the edge of her shawl. She took a deep breath, before pointing to the hall.

Tsun chuckled. “No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living, you dare the lands of the dead. Each of you. By what right do you request entry?”

“We are the dragonborn,” Miraak replied. “It is our right by birth.”

Tsun glanced behind them at the other two.

“And we are their companions, here to serve them until the very end,” Jenassa said, motioning to herself and the werewolf beside her. Sterlas sneezed in response.

Tsun returned his glance to Miraak and Casil. “Ah, it’s been too long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood,” the man remarked, reaching back to unhook his battle ax. Casil took a step back. “Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge ‘till I judge them worth by the warrior’s test,” he stated.

“So be it,” Miraak growled, drawing his sword. Casil wondered how the other dragonborn still had the energy to fight. She was exhausted, and she could tell the other two were as well. They had been fighting non stop for hours, and all four of them were riddled with wounds and arrows that still needed to be removed. Casil lit up the fires in her hand, but Tsun raised a hand to her.

“This is not a group effort, little elf. A warrior must prove himself, and himself alone,” he said, turning his gaze to Miraak.

So they would each have to face him. Casil stepped back, letting the fires die down in her hands.

Miraak and Tsun eyed each other, taking a few paces to size  their opponent. Miraak made the first move. He lunged forward, swinging his sword. The blade itself did not get close enough to cut, but to Casil’s surprise a tentacle extended out of the blade and slammed into Tsun’s chest. The nord winced in surprise, staggering back. Miraak wasted no time in ramming his shoulder into the other man’s chest, setting him off balance before he spun and gave slash of the blade. The edge cut into the man, followed by a lash of lightning.

Tsun raised his hands before Miraak attacked again, light shining from his wounds before the healed closed. “You fought well. Step forward. You are worthy of entry to the Hall of Valor,” he said, sweeping a arm and stepping aside for Miraak. The dragonborn sheathed his sword silently, stepping forward before he waited for the others. Tsun eyed him, before turning to the remaining three.

Jenassa motioned for Casil to go. “If Sterlas and I can’t get in… we’ll wait out here. We’ll… be fine,” she said quietly to Casil, giving the bosmer a reassuring pat on the arm. Casil pursed her lips, before nodding.

She turned to face Tsun, stepping forward to face the large nord. Fire lit into her hands. Tsun nodded his head to her, readying her axe.

He did not give her the same moment of pause as he did to Miraak. Tsun charged forward swiftly, axe raised over his head. Casil flinched to the side, blade narrowly swinging into the dirt where she had just stood. Fire was unleashed from her palms, hitting into the man with a grunt. He recovered from his swing and took another attempt into hitting her. The blade slid through her shawl, grazing her side. Casil staggered back, searing hot pain reaching through the cut. She reached to grip the new wound with a hand, trying to heal it while she sent out a cone of frost from her other hand to slow Tsun down. The nord walked through it with no ill-effect. Casil cursed her stupidness for trying to freeze a nord, before returning to another blast of fire as the axe spun back around. She ducked down out of the way, narrowly avoiding it once more. Every sharp jerk of her body made pain shoot out from still-lodged arrows and unhealed gashes. Casil took a sharp inhale of breath as she rolled out of the way of another blow. She couldn’t keep this up. Fire burned between both her hands, and she pushed all of her remaining magicka into one fireball after another. Each got weaker and weaker, but it was enough to keep Tsun from getting a easy swing or from simply being able to pursue her. At last, he raised his hands.

“Though the Nords may have forgotten their forefathers’ respect for the Clever Craft, you wield it well. Here in Shor’s house, we honor it still. I find you worthy,” he spoke, motioning for her to step pass.

Casil let out a ragged sigh of relief. She carefully made her way to stand beside Miraak, leaning against one of the tall vertebrae of the whale bridge.

Jenassa stepped up next, before looking to Casil and Miraak. “Go ahead. You have things you must do. Sterlas and I will either make it through or we will not. Do not wait for us,” she said. She looked to Tsun. “With your permission, I request to move the dragonborn’s belongings as far as the edge of the bridge,” she spoke, motioning to the bags.

Tsun made a nod, stepping aside. Jenassa and Sterlas moved their bags to the edge, before stepping back.

“Get goin’ kid,” Sterlas said, nodding to her.

Casil have her companions a worried look. ‘Good luck. Thank you.’

Jenassa gave the woman a nod, before she returned her gaze to Tsun. She took a deep breath, before drawing her sword and shield.

Miraak turned to head down the bridge. Casil followed, trying her hardest not to worry about the dunmer and redguard. The Hall of Valor loomed before them, a silhouette against the brilliant sky of Sovngarde. The bones of the whale creaked below them as they walked, and behind her Casil could hear the sound of metal clashing against metal. Jenassa and Sterlas could do it. She knew they could. But she couldn’t help but feel guilty always leaving them behind.

The two dragonborn at last reached the other side. Miraak paused, looking up at the Hall before them. Casil paused next to him, glancing at the masked nord. He was uneasy, she could tell. She gripped his sleeve for a moment, before she walked forward to the doors. With a deep breath, she pushed them open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Dovahkiin, Zu’u mindok losei het… Hi, nahlot kiir wo grik mey kod zin dovah,”** \-- Dragonborn, I know you’re here. You, and the silent girl who foolishly uses the honor of the dragon.
> 
> \--> **“Zu’u mindok losei het, Miraak. Meyz krii hin thur ahst laat?”** \-- Oh, I know you’re here Miraak. Come to kill your master at last?
> 
> \--> **“Zul mey gut! Hi nid thur do dii.”** \-- You are no master of mine.
> 
> \--> **“Krosis, hi vahzah. Zu’u lost folaas. Hermaeus Mora thuriil nu, rok ni? Nid, orin daar folaas… Lost hi qiilaan grik golt ol wahl nizul fahliil ol drogiil nu?”** \--Sorrow, you are right. I was wrong. Hermaeus Mora is your master now, is he not? No, even that is wrong. Have you bowed so [low] as to raise the voiceless elf as your lord now?


	45. XLV. My Demons

Bright light made her shield her eyes for a moment, before they finally adjusted. The Hall was brilliant, full of merriment and laughter. Rows and rows of tables spanned either side of the hall, covered in gold cutlery and piles of food. A huge fire lay at the center, over which two full oxen were cooking. People sung, laughed, drank. Braziers lit up the rest of the hall from what Casil could see. Light poured in from the windows as well, casting brilliant pink and purple light on the walls.

People turned to face them as they stepped in.

“Hail!” a man called, raising a glass of wine in greeting to the two. He took a sip of his drink, before getting up to walk over to them. “Welcome, Dragonborn! Our door has stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. By Shor’s command we sheathed our blades and ventured not into the vale’s dark mist. But three await your word to loose their fury upon the perilous foe. Gormlaith the fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon the valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the old, far-seeing and grim,” he made a motion to a table some feet away. “Go now. There is no time to waste.”

Miraak lingered back, hand on the hilt of his sword. Casil nodded her head in thanks to the man, before starting to step towards the other three. The three heroes who took down Alduin the first time.

A year ago, she would have never believed that there she would be standing, in the hall of nordic heroes, preparing for the final battle to save the world from the maws of Alduin, the World-Eater.

Gormlaith was the first to look over. “Hail, Dragonborn!” she cried, raising a glass to the woman. Hakon looked over next, and was about to do the same before his eyes fell on the man behind her. Hakon pushed himself up from the table, face turning to a scowl. He pulled the battle axe off his back, and Casil could hear Miraak unsheathe his sword behind her.

“ _Miraak_ ,” Hakon snarled, “how _dare_ you set foot here, and now of all times!”

Miraak calmly pushed past Casil, ignoring her attempts to stop him. “Hakon,” Miraak replied flatly, pausing in front of the smaller dragonborn.

“Hakon…” Gormlaith began, but the two nords were already at each other’s throats. Or, more of, Hakon was at Miraak’s throat.

Hakon lunged at the dragon priest, swinging his axe with incredible precision. Miraak narrowly avoided it, bringing his sword up to block the rest of it. Miraak was in no position to fight anymore, and it was obvious. Casil wasn’t either. She frantically looked between the two fighting nords, unsure of what she could do to stop them. If she stepped between them, she’d just be chopped into pieces. And her sign language did nothing when nobody was looking in her direction.

Hakon smashed his elbow into Miraak’s chest, causing the priest to grunt in pain.The hilt of the battle axe hit into his mask, sending him into the table. Dishes and glasses clattered, spiraling across the table as Miraak fell into them. He struggled to right himself, leaving a bloody splat where his already wounded body hit.

“Hakon! That’s enough! Stop this!” Gormlaith demanded, trying to grab a hold of her companion.

Hakon’s axe cleaved into the table, missing Miraak’s arm by a fraction of a inch. The dragonborn managed to roll out of the way, landing on the ground with a unceremonious thud before scrambling to get up again. “You turn your back on us and now you show your face here!? The legends spoke of the last dragonborn, not you! What have you done with them?” Hakon howled, bringing the axe around for another swing.

Casil rushed to Miraak’s side, trying to help him up. Gormlaith stepped between the dragonborn and her companion, bringing her shield and sword up to block the incoming attack. She shoved Hakon off, pointing her sword at Hakon. “Shor would be ashamed to see you fighting like this in his halls!”

Hakon staggered back, glowering at the people before him.

Casil moved her body between Hakon and Miraak instinctively, though there wasn’t much she could do to protect the old nord. Miraak winced, breathing audibly labored behind his mask. Gormlaith waited until Hakon finally put his weapon down in resignation before she turned to face Casil and Miraak.

“...you’re both wounded,” she said suddenly, crouching down in front of the two.

Casil fumbled through her bag for a writing utensil and a pad of paper. ‘We haven’t had time to properly fix our wounds since we landed in Skuldafn,’ she wrote shakily, showing it to Gormlaith.

The nordic woman pursed her lips, before nodding. She stood up, turning to her fellow heroes in the hall around them. “Bandages. Whatever you can find that will help make our guests comfortable. They need to rest.”

Casil let out a soft sigh of relief, writing a thank you on the paper. Gormlaith looked to Miraak. “...Are you alright?”

The dragon priest grunted, trying to sit up. “I’ve been _better.”_

She snorted. “Get off what you can. We need to get those arrow out of you. Both of you,” she ordered, moving to clear a space near the fire for them. Casil feebly helped Miraak stand, before they both slowly made their way to the fire. Casil was relieved to see Jenassa and Sterlas enter soon after.

‘They’re with us,’ Casil wrote, flashing it to the others in the hall. Gormlaith nodded, before making sure they were settled in too.

 

Casil winced as Gormlaith managed to get another arrowhead out of her.

“You look like porcupines,” she grumbled, tossing it into a bucket of bloody arrow remains.

‘Only porcupine spines don’t hurt them,’ Casil wrote with a silent groan. The nordic woman placed some healing potion on the gash, watching it to make sure it healed properly.

“All of you certainly pulled through difficult fights… Though..” she glanced to Miraak.

The dragonborn sat as far from the rest of the group as he could, trying to deal with his own wounds. He had only accepted assistance with the ones he couldn’t reach in his back, but after that he chased anyone off who tried to help. “I wasn’t expecting to see him,” she continued, dropping her tone.

Casil pursed her lips, not replying. She watched her companion dig another arrow out of his side with a strung-out hiss of pain.

“I don’t think we would have brought him along if we did not need him,” Jenassa said, hushing her tone as well as she worked on a arrow in Sterlas’s back.

The werewolf took a drink of Alto wine. “Fuck me,” he grumbled, trying his hardest to ignore the pain.

Gormlaith tied a bandage around one of the wounds that didn’t seem to be quick to close. “...I didn’t expect you to be… well, mute, either. The gods have strange ways of working it seems.”

Casil hung her shoulders, which was a mistake. She hissed a bit, trying to adjust again so it wouldn’t pull on the remaining wounds. ‘I didn’t want this, you know.’

The old hero shook her head. “I didn’t think you did. You took a great risk bringing Miraak here. I apologize for Hakon’s… forwardness. I am sure you are aware that our two parties are at odds with each other.”

Casil nodded carefully. ‘He mentioned once that you wanted to use him to defeat Alduin.’

Gormlaith pursed her lips, getting the last arrow out of the bosmer. “... I guess that is how he would see it. We knew our power would probably not be enough to defeat Alduin, so we turned to Miraak. Perhaps with his dragonblood, it would be enough. He was the first of his kind. I suppose we should have expected the reply he gave us,” she said with a sigh.

Casil looked over to Miraak, letting out a soft sigh.

They had managed to alienate him from the rest of the group. He sat alone, carefully bandaging his wounds, away from everyone else. The party as a whole had been brought food, pillows, blankets, furs, and whatever else they needed. None of those had made it to the oldest dragonborn.

Casil pitied him. He was an arrogant asshole, yes, but…

She snapped her thoughts away from that. ‘He’s here to help now,’ she wrote.

Gormlaith nodded with a sigh, patching her up before she stood. “Get some rest. When you are ready… come find us,” she said, before moving to join her companions at a table not far away.

The hall had fallen to a more hushed tone to allow the four to get sleep. Sterlas and Jenassa exchanged quiet words between each other as they pulled arrows out. Casil glanced to where Gormlaith had gone.

Hakon was still shooting daggers at Miraak. Felldir was clearly talking sternly to him though, which was at least something.

Casil grabbed some pillows, blankets and furs before shuffling over to Miraak. She set everything down in a pile. Miraak glanced at her, but as usual he did not immediately say anything. The bosmer took a seat next to him.

‘Are you alright?’ she signed.

Miraak turned his attention to the fire. “I will survive.”

Casil sighed. She shifted, moving to push some of the furs and blankets towards the old dragonborn. ‘You should get some rest.’

Miraak threw her a look. “I will get rest when I need it. You, on the other hand, need it _now.”_

Casil rolled her eyes, before very carefully laying back in the rest of the furs she brought over. She rolled up into them, laying still for a moment. ‘Are you going to kill me tomorrow?’ she asked suddenly.

Miraak raised an eyebrow at her. “Go to sleep,” was his reply.

Casil closed her eyes. She had so much to worry about, but she was so _tired._ She did not get a chance to linger on things for too long, because she passed.

Miraak watched the fire, slowly turning Nahrkiin’s mask in his hands.

 

Casil did not know how long it was until she woke up again. Her body ached something fierce. With a weak groan she sat up, looking around. Miraak was already up, or had never gone to sleep. The priest was sharpening his sword, clearly trying to pass the time. Jenassa and Sterlas were up already as well.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Sterlas said when he noticed that she was up. He was trying to be playful, but she could hear the edge in his voice. It was heavy over the whole hall.

It was time.

Casil took a deep breath, getting up. ‘Do I have time to conjure my skeletons?’ she questioned Sterlas. He nodded. “The bags are outside. We didn’t work on h The bosmer nodded. She pulled her clothing back on, making sure everything was ready to go. Sterlas spoke up again when he noticed Casil searching around for the original three heroes.

aulin’ that shit all the way out here for you not to use em’.”

“They went ahead. Waiting at the end of the bridge I think. Scouting it,” he informed her. She nodded, moving to step outside. Her bags lay waiting for her. Casil rubbed her hands together. It was time.

 

The army was 281 strong, a number that Casil had to use every last ounce of her wit to keep in her control. The residents of the Hall of Valor had started to watch until there was no more space to do so. When at last the final skeleton had been assembled, Casil tossed the bags to the side before she collected herself and got up.

“You ready?” Sterlas asked, hands on his hips as he surveyed the sea of cracking bones.

Casil looked to the others. Miraak stood furthest back, leaning against the wall in the shadows. Jenassa was worried, but she gave Casil a nod of her head.

Casil took a deep breath. ‘Then it’s time.’

She walked over to Miraak, head tilted up. The dragonborn let her approach him. Orange-yellow eyes gazed up at him from under her furrowed brow, before she pulled her notepad out. Her pen scratched against the surface.

 _Joor zah frul._ She held the pad of paper for a moment, looking down at the words that she had written before she at last turned it to Miraak. Her eyes closed, and she tried to will her understanding of the word to him. She felt a tug, and a moment later Miraak brushed past her. Her eyes opened, and she looked to him.

“Let us go, dragonborn,” he said simply. “It’s time.”

 

Gormlaith, Felldir and Hakon waited at the other side of the bridge, just a few feet in front of Tsun. They waited Casil, Miraak, Jenassa and Sterlas to cross the bridge.

“Are you ready?” Felldir asked, voice weary. Casil turned to look to Miraak. It was up to him.

Miraak walked to take his place beside the other four. “Let us end this, finally.”

Gormlaith nodded her head, turning to face the mist. “We will need to clear this mist first. Together, we should have the strength to drive it back.”

Hakon nodded.

In unison, the four let out a resounding “ _Lok vah koor!”_ The mist shuddered back, torn apart like the winds at the Throat of the World had been. Casil watched, feeling a pang of guilt for being unable to help.

“ _Ven mul riik!”_

Alduin’s voice rippled out from somewhere far away. The mist crept back in with ferocity.

“Persistent,” Hakon grunted.

“Again!” Felldir called.

“ _Lok vah koor!”_

The mist parted once more.

“ _Ven mul riik!”_

Casil gritted her teeth.

“Are… can we not defeat it?” Jenassa asked nervously as the mist crept back in.

Gormlaith shook his head. “He is losing strength. Again!” she cried.

“ _Lok vah koor!”_

This time, the mist did not return. There was an angry roar from deep within the valley.

Felldir drew his sword. “It is time. Be prepared!” He said, shifting out to the battlefield before them.

All followed, including a swarm of Casil’s skeletons. She sent them out, spreading them across the field. Casil took cover below some trees, hoping to stay out of the bulk of Alduin’s attacks. Sterlas turned into his werewolf form, and Miraak did not hesitate to shroud himself with Dragon Aspect.

There was a few moments of silence, before another roar echoed. And another. And _another._

“Looks like Alduin is bringing backup too,” Jenassa said, gripping her bow tightly.

“Let him,” Miraak said coldly. “It will serve him no good.”

 

Alduin came in with a fury of fire, ice and thunder. The attacks crashed in, felling a slew of Casil’s skeletons.

“ _Zu’u unslaad! Zu’u nis oblaan!_ ” he roared.

Miraak steadied himself as the dragon’s attacks crashed around him. His eyes locked on the great dragon. “ _Joor zah frul!_ ”

Aludin let out a howl. “ _Hi mey!”_ He roared, violently flapping as he crashed into the ground. Dragons let out snarls as they joined into the field, circling their master.

Alduin rose out of the pile of dirt he crashed into, rocks and grass rolling from his black scales as his head craned up over the dragonborn and the heroes that stood beside them. Blazing red eyes stared down with all the hatred in the world contained within. He inhaled, and let out a deafening roar. “ _Hi fen dir!”_

Nobody wasted time.

Aludin’s cry brought the heavens raining down around them in great bouts of fire, like they had when Casil had first laid eyes on him. Dragons circled, unleashing stream after stream of elemental attacks. The party scattered.

Hakon, Gormlaith and Felldir drew some of the dragons off to the sides, trying to wrangle the beast’s attentions away from the fight with Alduin. Blades swung. Dragons crumbled beneath the dragon slayer’s blades. Claws, tooth and tail lashed out in a fury of blows among streams of fire and ice. The nords did not relent. The three had done this before, and they would not falter in this final battle.

The skeletons, though brittle, did their work. Arrows rained onto dragons along with spells, while those wielding melee weapons swarmed and overwhelmed any dragon unfortunate enough to land or to be brought to the ground.

At the center of the maelstrom stood Jenassa, Miraak, and Sterlas.

Miraak danced out of the way of a stream of fire and ice, lightning racing out from his fingertips. The electricity crawled over Alduin’s black hide, earning a snarl from the great god-like being. Jenassa unleashed arrow after arrow, keeping space between herself and the dragon’s dangerous tail.

Sterlas bounded towards Alduin, leaping to grab a hold of his wing. Alduin threw him off with ease, turning his attention to breath a stream of fire at Jenassa next. Sterlas landed with a grunt, claws digging into the dirt to stop himself from sliding before he bounded towards Alduin again.

Jenassa ducked down behind a rock, wincing as fire and blazing heat tore around her. She thanked the gods that she was a dunmer. The rock sizzled white on the assaulted side when the attack let up, slagging into the ashes of flowers and grass that once grew there.

Miraak lunged with his sword, blade hitting Alduin in the maw.

“ _Hi pahlok mun!_ ” Alduin snarled, before slamming his head into the dragonborn.

Miraak winced in pain as the great beast slammed him into the ground, threatening to chomp down on him. Sterlas grabbed ahold of Alduin’s horns before he could, raking a claw down the dragon’s cheek. Alduin hissed and jerked back, shaking his head violently. Sterlas slid down the dragon’s neck, digging his nails in the whole way. The aura around Alduin from Dragonrend began to fade, and he quickly took to the sky before Miraak could get back to his feet. Sterlas hopped to the ground so Alduin couldn’t throw him off in the sky.

“Your souls will feed my power!” Alduin roared, unleashing another stream of fire, ice and lightning onto his foes below.

The three scattered, scathed by various amounts of the attack. Sterlas circled around, trying to find a opening to attack the dragon. Jenassa took cover again, stringing her bow as she waited for Miraak to down the beast once more.

Alduin did not give Miraak a break. He dove down, claws extended to try to grab the only able bodied dragonborn. The nord narrowly rolled out of the way, and into Alduin’s tail. He went tumbling across the ground, losing his sword along the way. Alduin turned, poised to strike.

“ _Hi fod neh gruth zu’u, aar,”_ he growled, before unleashing a stream of fire.

Casil pushed herself in the way, throwing up a ward with both hands. It did not stop all of the attack, but it kept both herself and Miraak from being turned into a charred corpse. She pulled on her will to send her skeletons forward, drawing more to distract the dragon until Miraak could rend him again.

“You dare call yourself a dragonborn,” Alduin hissed at Casil, swatting her skeletons aside with his wing. Another dragon circled in to assist his lord, barreling into skeletons with its broad body.

Casil tried to ignore the searing pain from the fire. She turned to help Miraak up, pushing him to move in the opposite direction before bolting for cover again. Sterlas covered for her by lunging at Alduin again, latching his jaws onto the dragon’s hind leg. Alduin merely kicked the wolf off, but it gave Casil time to lie low again.

Before he could return to the sky, Miraak let out another Dragonrend. Alduin snarled.

“ _Nikriin!_ ” Alduin roared, snapping his attention once more to the first dragonborn. He dropped to all fours, powering towards his foe. Skeletons parted before him like water under his sheer strength, and he lashed out to grab Miraak in his maw. The attack landed short, but was enough to grab the edge of the man’s robes. Alduin shook him violently until the fabric tore, sending Miraak to the ground again.

He gave a pained exhale as he hit the dirt once more. Alduin was, as he had expected, far stronger than any other dragon. He pushed himself to his feet, using Ice Form to keep Alduin from biting him again.

The ice crept up around Alduin’s muzzle, causing him to reel back. The beast shook his head while Miraak moved to grab his sword again, before the ice shattered away with a mighty force. The next lunge was met with a sword to the nose. Miraak threw a glance to see where the others were.

Jenassa was pinned down by one of the other dragons. She had taken cover behind one of the many pine trees, and above her lingered a forest dragon. The beast was trying to bite down on her, and she was doing her best to fight it off. He could make out a flash of Sterlas’s fur as the werewolf bolted by, weaving in and out of skeletons of one sort or another as he tried to find a way to get in at Alduin.

Casil made herself known with a blast of fire that caused the dragon’s body to visibly jerk back.

Alduin’s body shuddered, and he let out a ear splitting roar of rage. “ _Oblaan!”_

Casil hurried to take up her place in the fight, enough skeletons down that she did not need all of her focus to maintain them. Alduin started the two dragon down, world smoldering around him. Dragons circled the sky. Fire engulfed the field. Scale met metal. Smoke burned the eyes and nose.

“ _Hi fen nahkip suleyki!_ _”_

Casil let fire burn in her hands as she stood beside the first dragonborn. This was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Zu’u unslaad! Zu’u nis oblaan!”** \--I am immortal, I cannot die!
> 
> \--> **“Hi pahlok mun!"** \-- You arrogant man!


	46. XLVI. The Kill

 

Alduin’s strike was like lightning. His teeth slammed inches from Casil’s face, drool and reeking breath hitting Casil’s face with great force. Casil staggered back, before ducking down.

Miraak slammed his shoulder into Alduin’s jaw, forcing it away from the small woman. He followed up with a jab from the sword and the tentacle that resided inside of it. One of the dragon’s wings stretched out bat Miraak aside, but he took a well-aimed swing and took a slice through the webbing. Alduin’s roar shook the earth.

Jenassa let loose a arrow into the back of the beast’s neck, making him reel back. His tail lashed around like a whip to hit her, taking her out where she stood. She took a tumble a good twenty feet away, bow snapping from the blow and arrows scattering across the smoldering field. Her hands planted themselves in the ash, weakly trying to push herself up. Pain spread out from her, and she reached her hand up to grab at her broken ribs. Gormlaith rushed over to help the other woman up again while Hakon and Felldir held off one of the remaining dragons. Crumbling skeletons formed a wall between Alduin and the fallen dunmer, beating swords against shields.

Miraak noted a dragon circling close. “ _Gol hah dov!”_ he snarled. The dragon staggered, power creeping over it.

“ _Pahlok, tharodiis joor!_ ” Alduin roared, lashing out with a wing again. Miraak narrowly dodged it. “ _Hi fen neh kos ol mul ol hi sahvot! Hi fen neh kos_ Zu’u!”

Miraak pointed his sword towards Alduin. The other dragon circled and slammed into Alduin, digging his claws into his former lord.

Alduin hissed and whirled, sinking his teeth into the lesser dragon. Miraak moved back, strafing to the side so he could take a swing at Alduin’s wing again. Casil moved to the opposite side, using her fire. Alduin ripped the throat out of the dragon, splattering blood over the field. The ground hissed as blood splattered onto it, and the dragon crumbled into the dirt.

Alduin whirled to face Casil as the dragon soul was pulled towards her. “ _Fus ro dah!_ ”

Everything became a blur of fire and ash as she was sent tumbling backwards and into a tree. Alduin followed after her with a stream of fire.

Casil expected for that to be it. Ash stung her lungs as she inhaled, slowly trying to push herself up. She could make out the massive shadow of Alduin approaching through embers and smoke. Blood rolled down her nose, and she could taste more in her mouth.

Sterlas slammed into Alduin’s maw, claws digging into his scaly face. Alduin hissed, shaking his head. He threw Sterlas off, roaring. Sterlas bounded back up, claws lashing out. Alduin turned and slammed his face into Sterlas, sending him into the air before his tail came to slam the wolf back out. Sterlas let out a pained howl, and then was silent in a cloud of ash.

Casil struggled to her feet, sending a fireball into Alduin. The dragon slowly moved towards her, fire bashing into his chest. Ash and embers circled around his wings as he moved, eyes burning as bright as the fire. Casil threw another fireball, coughing up some blood. She bared her teeth at the dragon defiantly.

Alduin inhaled, before letting out a stream of fire at her. Casil threw up her ward, holding her ground. When the flames subsided, she could see Miraak moving as quickly as he could towards her.

“Time to die, dragonborn,” Alduin hissed, slime rolling down out of his jaw. Casil stepped towards him, head raised pridefully. She threw another fireball. It rolled off of Alduin’s snout. Alduin’s head turned slightly as Miraak came into view. His tail lashed out at him and Miraak managed to avoid the brunt of the swing. It took his mask off though and caused him to stumble, but he kept his path towards Casil. She moved to greet him.

Alduin lunged forward to grab the two. Casil dropped to the ground, avoiding his maw. Miraak reached a hand out, grabbing Casil’s as she reached up for it. He pulled her up, wrapping his arm around his waist to right her. Alduin turned his head to face them again.

Miraak let out an exhale. Alduin swerved his body, before lunging once more. Miraak charged with Casil. He kept his grip on her. “ _Wuld nah kest!”_

The gap narrowed quicker than Alduin expected. Miraak pushed up off of the beast’s snout, pulling Casil with all his strength. Alduin’s eyes widened as the landed on his snout. Miraak shifted his sword to his other hand, gripping it so Casil could help him before the two leaned into the sword with all of their strength. The sword plunged into Alduin’s forehead, crunching through his skull.

“ _Hin rel los ko, Alduin,_ ” Miraak breathed. “ _Neh zeim fen hi naak zii do muzi.”_

The two were sent to the ground as Alduin threw himself back with a final roar of agony. The world whirled around the dragon as his skin began to peel away, and the rest of his body turned into a black ooze. It fell from his bones, body melting to the ground. The bones were oily and ink black, and ash and embers spun faster and faster around the writhing dragon.

“NO!”

He was pulled _apart._ The oil and ash sizzled and exploded outward into a shower of black, inky flakes. Wind ripped out across the planes, and the fire that burned from the battle was extinguished violently as the beast came to his end.

Miraak held Casil up, the two panting as the remains of the flakes deteriorated around them.

“It’s… over,” he said after a moment. Casil nodded, before her legs gave out from under her. Miraak caught her, but he set her down and knelt beside her. Casil spat out a mouthful of blood, leaning against the larger dragonborn’s side. Miraak did the same, closing his eye slightly. He brought a arm up to wipe blood from his broken nose, before resting his forehead against the back of Casil’s neck. “It’s _over._ ”

Gormlaith, Hakon and Felldir emerged from the remaining smoke, the nord woman helping Jenassa over as they approached. Jenassa let out a pained exhale of relief upon seeing Casil alive. She couldn’t help but even feel a bit happy to see Miraak alive too.

“He is gone. You’ve done it,” Gormlaith said, a smile managing on her face as she propped Jenassa up. Tsun emerged from the ashes, the few remaining skeletons Casil had scurrying out of his way.

“That was a mighty deed!” he cried, leaning on his axe. It was obvious that he had done his fair share of fighting as well. “The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They  will sing of this battle in Shor’s hall forever,” he exclaimed.

Casil glanced at them in exhaustion. Things slowly fell into place.

Sterlas. Casil suddenly pushed herself to her feet, looking around frantically. Her eyes fell on a mass of brown fur in the ash. Her heart dropped and bile rose up in her throat. She coughed, limping over.

No.

She fell to her knees next to the werewolf’s body. Beaten, slender hands gripped at his fur, rolling him onto his back. He made no movement of his own. Casil tangled her fingers into his fur.

Sterlas?

She shook him.

_Sterlas?_

Tears welled in her eyes, and her shaking become more violent. A weak choking sob came out of her dry throat.

Jenassa felt her own stomach turn as she limped to kneel by Casil. “Oh, Sterlas…” She managed, gripping her side. Jenassa closed her eyes, placing a hand on the werewolf’s side.

Miraak did not move from where he was. He glanced back at Casil, taking a moment more to catch his breath.

Casil let out a strangled scream. Her face came to bury into Sterlas’s side. Everything came rushing in.

Gormlaith, Hakon, Felldir and Tsun gave them space. Casil sobbed into her companion’s side.

Ash crunched slowly behind them. Casil picked up the soft sound under the remains of the fire. She whipped her head around, and she did not believe what she saw.

Sterlas looked bewildered. He looked between Miraak and the three old heroes, before his gaze fell on Casil and Jenassa… and himself. Sterlas let out a soft sigh, very carefully making his way towards them.

“...Hey kiddo. Are you _crying?_ ” he said, trying to laugh and manage a smile. More tears welled up in Casil’s eyes, and she struggled to her feet. Jenassa looked back in surprise as well, tears in her own eyes. Sterlas held out his arms as Casil gave the ghost a tight hug. He hugged her tightly, giving a weak laugh. “Hey now… don’t go crying on me now here, alright?”

Casil blubbered into the man’s chest. Jenassa stood up, taking a deep breath before she moved to embrace the man as well. After a long moment, they let go of each other. Sterlas glanced over at Tsun and the others. “Looks like i’m stuck here, huh?”

Tsun gave a smile. “You have already proven yourself worthy, friend. If you desire, Shor’s hall is open to you,” he said, standing aside to the bridge. Tsun’s gaze fell to the three remaining living. “As for you three - tarry not too long, the land of the dead is not  meant for mortals to linger. You have spent much time here as it is.”

Sterlas pursed his lips, before turning back to Casil. He put his hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Alright then. Listen up, Casil.”

Tears poured down her burnt, ashen cheeks. She shook her head. No, no…

“Casil. Listen. I’m gone, alright?” he said softly. “But, that being said, I get a chance to say goodbye to you here, right? So listen here. Don’t mourn for me too much, alright? You know exactly where I am. If it helps, take my fuzzy ass back with you to Tamriel and bury me in the backyard. Just not by that apiary, alright?” he said, a few tears of his own welling up in his eyes as he laughed. Casil nodded, sniffling. “I’m honored to have come with ya this far. And gods know if you hadn’t found me in that cage I would have been long gone. So you gave me more than I could ever have asked for. And I thank ya for that. It was a wild damn ride kid, and I would not trade any of it away,” he said, ruffling her hair. Casil nodded, trying hard not to burst into sobs again. “I’ll be here waitin’ for ya if you decide to head this way. And if you don’t, that’s fine.”

He turned to Jenassa next after he gave Casil one more hug. Jenassa wiped a tear away from her eye, giving him a weak smile. “Had to kick the bucket on us huh?”

Sterlas gave his gnarl-toothed smile. “Sorry Jenassa. You deserve another day in Tamriel more than I do though, gods know that,” he said, scratching the back of his head. He glanced at the ground, putting a hand on his hip for a moment. “...Thank you, for everything. I’m glad I had the chance to meet ya. Just wish we didn’t have to do so much shit eh?” he smiled and nudged her, careful not to hurt her.

Jenassa gave him a weak slug to the arm. “I will cherish every moment of  it. Thank you too.”

Sterlas gave her a careful hug, before he turned to the last party member.

Miraak leaned on his sword, watching the other three. Sterlas walked over calmly to him, looking the man over. After a second, he reached out a hand. “...You’re one hell of an asshole, i’m not going to lie, but… we wouldn’t be standin’ here without ya.”

Miraak looked wearily at Sterlas’s hand, shifting his mask under his arm before he shook Sterlas’s hand with a silent nod.

Sterlas pulled Miraak towards him, raising another finger. “You take care of the kid, alright?” He glanced back at Casil, before back to the older dragonborn. “...She may not think so, but she’s put a lot of trust into ya. Don’t… don’t fuck that up, alright?” He said with a sigh. “Take care of her.”

Sterlas let go of him, stepping back. Miraak’s black eyes scanned the werewolf’s face, before dipping his head. “...Alright.”

Sterlas sighed, before nodding. He turned back to look at the other two, before moving to stand by the other four. “Alright, off with ya three. Before you get stuck here with my ugly mug, okay?” he flashed one last toothy grin.

Casil took a deep breath, looking to Tsun as Jenassa and Miraak joined. Tsun looked them over. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Casil looked to the other two, before nodding.

Tsun walked up to them, glancing back to the three heroes to see if they had any last words of their own.

Hakon took a step forward, looking at Miraak. “...I was wrong about you. I’m sorry.” He bowed his head, before stepping back again.

Miraak nodded his head in return, but said nothing.

Tsun took a deep breath. “Return now to Nirn, heroes. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship, and bid you join the blessed feasting. _Nahl daal vus!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Pahlok, tharodiis joor!"** \--Arrogant, treacherous mortal!
> 
> \--> **“Hi fen neh kos ol mul ol hi sahvot! Hi fen neh kos Zu’u!”** \--You will never be as strong as you believe! You will never be me!
> 
> \--> **“Hin rel los ko, Alduin,”** \-- Your reign is over, Alduin
> 
> \--> **“Neh zeim fen hi naak zii do muzi.”** \-- Never beyond will you eat the souls of my people


	47. XLVII. Antigravity

They were met with the howl of the winds above the Throat of the World. The light of the dawn made Casil close her eyes tightly for a moment, hiding her face in the other dragonborn’s chest until they had adjusted. Her gaze fell immediately on the dragons that covered the rocks around them.

Was  _this_ it? Many eyes stared down at them. Did they get this far just to be killed by a bunch of waiting dragons?

Casil froze up, surveying each of the mighty beasts above and below them. She glanced at Miraak. His dark eyes surveyed them as well, until they suddenly shifted.

“ _Alduin mahlaan_ _.”_

They spoke in unison, voices rumbling like thunder.

A legendary dragon on the topmost rock spoke. “ _Sahrot thur qahnaraan_ _._ ” He spread his wings, before taking to the sky.

“ _Alduin mahlaan.”_

A blackwing dragon a few rocks below spoke. “ _Dovahkiinne los ok dovahkriid.”_ He took to the sky.

“ _Alduin mahlaan.”_

A frost dragon rumbled next. “ _Th’umii los nahlot._ _”_ He dove to the valley below.

“ _Alduin mahlaan._ ”

Finally, a ruddy brown dragon spoke last. “ _Mu los vomir_ _.”_

A cacophony of wings took to the sky, before they left the silence of the wind.

The three remaining watched them quietly, before another dragon flew to land on one of the now vacant rocks.

“So. He is dead,” Odahviing mused, watching the other dragons leave. He turned to look down at Miraak and Casil. The great dragon bowed his head. “You have proven your prowess, dovahkiin. I give you my allegiance. Should you need it, my assistance is yours to command,” he said with a sweep of his wing. His eyes moved to Miraak. “Even you have proven yourself to be… worthy.”

Casil bowed her head in thanks, tiredly signing it.

“ _Rek ofan ek kogaan,”_ MIraak stated, giving a simple nod of his head to the great red dragon.

Odahviing spread his wings again, before he returned to the sky. Casil swallowed dryly, turning as one last dragon came to land on the broken word wall.

Paarthurnax looked over the two dragonborn. A low rumble hummed in his chest. “As I should have guessed. _Tahrodiis miiraad,_ a dangerous choice… but I see it may have been the correct one.” The dragon folded his tattered wings to his side. “ _Fin teyye lost vahzah ruz zu’u koraav, Miraak. Hi neh vanzah dir, nunon bo nol Vus_ _.”_

Miraak gripped his mask, but he made no aggressive movement. “ _Geh, daar vahzah. Het, Zu’u mindol hi aal nos nau koraav._ _”_

Paarthurnax chuckled. “ _Dreh ni sahvot daar Zu’u ni rahgot krosis fah dreh hi wahl. Nuz, Zu’u lost meyz Miiraad do fin Thu’um. Hi fen lahney, fah nu. Fod hi daal hin munax dreh, Zu’u aal govey daar."_

Miraak flashed his teeth in a slight grin. “ _Hi morah pogaas ov ko hi, Paarthurnax_ _,”_ he mused.

Casil shifted uncomfortably. She hated it when he had conversations in draconic. She couldn’t understand much of it.

Paarthurnax noticed her movement, and turned his attention to her. “The world is in your favor, dovahkiin. You have done much… and because of you, it will live to see another day.” He bowed his head.

Casil bowed her head in return. ‘Let’s get to High Hrothgar. I want to rest,’ she signed to Miraak. He glanced at her, before nodding.

He turned, to Casil’s surprise, to help Jenassa with the fluffy corpse of Sterlas. The dragon let out a hum.

“ _Praan pruzah, dovahkiin,”_ Paarthurnax said, before turning to meditate.

 

High Hrothgar greeted them with open doors. They carefully buried Sterlas’s body in snow to keep it preserved, and sent a message for their horses to be brought up. Casil hardly finished getting cleaned and bandaged before she passed out by the fire in a heap of furs. Jenassa joined her soon after.

Miraak did not sleep right away. He was exhausted, but as usual he lingered awake.

 

Arngeir moved to sit across from the table the dragonborn sat at. The oldest nord did not take his black eyes away from the fire across the hall.

“So. You did not harm her,” Arngeir said, folding his weathered hands together.

Miraak tilted his head, staring at Arngeir out of the corner of his eye. The old man couldn’t tell. It was near impossible to determine where Miraak was looking from his eyes alone. “Did you think I would?”

Arngeir considered his words for a moment, weary eyes looking over the beaten and bruised man before him. “You were not known for your kindness.”

Miraak snorted, before turning his full attention to the Greybeard. “I assume you aren’t here for small talk,” he said bluntly.

Arngeir managed a slight smile that accompanied a soft chuckle. “No, i’m not. What do you plan to do now that this is over, hm?”

Miraak’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What is it to you?”

“Your history leaves us concerned about your future actions.”

“And yet you trust Paarthurnax.”

“He has given to years of dedicated meditation. The Greybeards have served under him for a long time.”

“My plans are none of your concern.”

“No, perhaps not. But do not bring the young dragonborn into them.”

“What I do with her is none of  your business either. What do you care anyways? You study on the Words of Power. Casil has no ability to use them.”

The old man pursed his lips. “She has proven herself, one way or another,” he moved to stand up again. Miraak narrowed his eyes a bit more at the monk as he walked away.

Foolish old men.

 

They reached home a few days later. It was the same as they had left it: hastily patched, scorched, and in need of some serious repair.

The first thing they did was bury Sterlas. Casil took a few of his belongings that he loved and had left in his room to bury beside him. They dug his grave at the base of a tree Casil recalled him spending a lot of time under before things went to shit.

Even though she had gotten to say goodbye to him, even though she knew exactly where he was, it was hard. Casil put down a handful of flowers on the freshly turned mound of dirt. They had put a temporary headstone there until Casil had the chance to have one carved for him. The bosmer let out a soft sigh. A year ago, Casil and Sterlas had been watching the roads for bandits to make some extra money for winter. Now, she was burying her companion before the permafrost sank into the ground. The woman wiped a tear from her cheek, taking a deep breath.

Life had been changed, and it would never go back to how it was. It was going to take a lot to get used to this new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Alduin mahlaan.”** \-- Alduin has fallen
> 
> \--> **“Sahrot thur qahnaraan.”** \--The Mighty Overlord is Vanquished.
> 
> \--> **“Dovahkiinne los ok dovahkriid.”** \-- The dragonborn are his dragonslayer.
> 
> \--> **“Th’umii los nahlot.”** \-- His Shout is silenced.
> 
> \--> **“Mu los vomir.”** \-- We no longer follow him.
> 
> \--> **“Fin teyye lost vahzah ruz zu’u koraav, Miraak. Hi neh vanzah dir, nunon bo nol Vus.”** \-- The stories were true then I see, Miraak. You never truly died, only flew from Nirn.
> 
> \--> **“Geh, daar vahzah. Het, Zu’u mindol hi aal nos nau koraav.”** \-- Yes, that is right. Here I thought you might attack me on sight.
> 
> \--> **“Dreh ni sahvot daar Zu’u ni rahgot krosis fah dreh hi wahl. Nuz, Zu’u lost meyz Miiraad do fin Thu’um. Hi fen lahney, fah nu. Fod hi daal hin munax dreh, Zu’u aal govey daar.”** \-- Do not believe that I don’t feel anger and sorrow for the actions you made. But, I have turned to the Way of the Voice. You will live, for now. Should you return to your cruel actions, I may remove that.
> 
> \--> **“Hi morah pogaas ov ko hi, Paarthurnax,”** \-- You focus much trust in me.


	48. XLVIII. Let It Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some more NSWF  
> All chapters after this will be posted as they're complete  
> End of Part II - Dragonborn

Casil made it obvious very quickly after that neither Miraak nor Jenassa needed to stay around. Their journey was done. Casil was tired. At very least, she wanted to spend the winter recovering from what they had gone through, and even then she didn’t know what she was going to do after. Miraak and Jenassa were their own people, and especially in Miraak’s case she did not want to pin them down to anything. They were free to leave and do what they wanted now.

Jenassa insisted to stay, but Casil could tell she needed time off. The dunmer did linger around for a few days, but at last she gathered up her things and with a quiet goodbye and thankyou, left. She said she would come back; Casil was her patron, after all, but Casil would not have blamed her if she never did. The dunmer set out to head back to her homelands for awhile. She needed to get away from Skyrim.

That left Miraak. Casil had expected him, of all people, to take off immediately. But he didn’t. The old dragonborn lingered, though he avoided her largely. They did not interact. It was fine with Casil. He didn’t need to see her cry.

 

Miraak had not seen Casil in a few days. At first, he paid it no mind; it was not his job to take care of the younger dragonborn, and much like her he was _exhausted_. The nord left the wood elf to her own devices in the cellar, spending his time recovering from their battle with Alduin while contemplating his next course of action. The first day the thought of checking on the woman didn’t even glimpse his mind. The second he vaguely considered it, but quickly dismissed it. The third he couldn’t help but wonder if she had run out of food yet in the cellar, and for a moment entertained the possibility that she had died down there in some horrible forge accident, or from inhaling too many fumes. His hopes were dashed though when he recalled that he probably would have absorbed her soul if she had. It was finally on the night of the fourth day did Miraak finally talk himself into checking on the bosmer, largely out of curiosity. What did he care about Casil?

The Dragon Priest hoisted up the cellar door and was met with the heavy smell of metal and smoke. As he descended down the rickety wood stairs, he couldn’t help but acknowledge how good of a job Casil had done at keeping the cellar ventilated. With how much she had going on down there, he would have expected the air to become unbreathable rather quickly.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the initial room, before they scanned to the forge in the neighboring section. The fire still burned brightly, a indication that Casil had at least been alive recently to tend to it. Armor and weaponry littered every square inch of the room, and flooded into the initial room. Some of it he recognized as pieces she’d found, others were clearly recently made, while some were just scraps and pieces of things not fully torn apart or not fully built. Miraak made his way into the forge room, carefully scooting heaps of metal and leather aside with a foot as he did so.

It did not take him long to find Casil. The woman was huddled up in the corner by the smelter, arms tightly wrapped around her knees as she hugged them to her chest. She looked awful. Coal smeared her face and arms, and a decent amount of lazy bandaging stained with blood and singed from fire told him she was being very haphazardous about her smithing. The pile of metal next to the smelter and the intense red heat that flowed out of it was a clear indicator that Casil had, for a decent amount of time here, been doing nothing but melting things down. He wasn’t sure if she had even noticed him as he approached. Casil sniffled, rubbing her eyes with a arm which only worsened the amount of grit on her body.

Crying. Of course she was crying. Grieving over that stupid dog still. Miraak stood before her, arms crossed as he gazed down at the bosmer.

“This is very unbefitting of you, dovahkiin,” he spoke finally, a frown appearing on his face.

Casil shrugged, giving another weak sniffle.

He was tempted to just turn and leave her to her pathetic sniveling, but instead, without warning, he stooped over and picked her up. Casil looked at him in shock, before she rather feebly tried to shove him away. Miraak threw an arm under her legs before pinning her arms against his chest, before swiftly turning to get out of the cellar. Casil struggled, throwing a sort of tantrum in his arms as she tried to squirm away from him. Her attempts did not get far. It wasn’t difficult for the nord to overpower her normally, and from the looks of it he guessed she hadn’t eaten that day or even the previous one.

Bringing her up into the light of the house made her look worse. Her eyes were puffy under the grime and coal, and her hair was coated in a thick layer of soot. Nails were broken and torn, and from the fingers to the mid upper arm was almost pitch black. Poorly wrapped bandages failed to hide or protect gashes and cuts made from metal, and Miraak guessed that being a bosmer was her only saving grace from a copious amount of infections and diseases that should have cropped up as a result. Her blacksmith’s apron was scorched and dirtied, more so than it usually was. Her lips were cracked, and she trembled slightly in his arms through the squirming. Miraak could not determine if she looked worse after the fight with Alduin, or now.

He shoved the door to the outside open with a shoulder, cradling Casil in his arms before he made his way down to the lake. Casil made something again to a whine, shoving a hand against his chest. Miraak just let out a grunt.

“You’re going to get clean. I will not allow the last to be so unpresentable,” he stated sternly, making his way down the slope that ran next to the house before he cut across to the water.

Casil continued to beat on his chest, but it wasn’t much. He vaguely wondered why she bothered, especially when her magic was so much more formidable. Maybe she didn’t even have the energy to do that.

Miraak only set Casil down when they had at last reached the waterside, but he did not let her scramble away to mope somewhere else. He gripped her tightly, fumbling as he stripped her out of her clothing. Casil flailed like a angry child, trying to wiggle away from him with no avail. Once her clothing was off and discarded into a heap, the man picked her up again, walked himself out onto an outcropping of rock, and unceremoniously threw her into the cold water.

The shock hit Casil like a ton of bricks. She sunk down a few feet into the water, before she managed to pull herself back to the surface with a strangled gasp of surprise. She whipped her head to face Miraak, a mix of angry and baffled, only to see him with arms folded and a irritatingly bored look on his face.

Casil shivered, swimming until her feet could touch the bottom of the lake before bringing her arms up to both grab at her arms and to cover her chest. Her cheeks puffed up in resentment, glowering at the fellow dragonborn.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He asked in a tone dripping with disinterest. “Because if someone comes by and sees you like this, it’s your own fault.”

Casil threw a look around the lake. For the god’s sake, it was the dead of night. Casil was thankful that the moons were bright enough that she could make out the arrogant bastard in the dark. Casil made a movement like that of a threatened bird, before she lashed out and splashed the biggest wave of water she could manage at her companion.

Miraak was irritated with himself that he had not expected her to make such a immature

Move. He staggered back, making a sort of hiss of irritation as she drenched his robes.

“Fine,” he grunted, unhooking a few straps of his clothing before he shrugged it off. “If this is how you want to act.”

Casil blinked in surprise as the man undressed, before nonchalantly wading out into the water after her. He grabbed her, yanking her over to somewhere a bit more shallow before he sat on a rock and pulled her down to sit in front of him, a motion which earned a scalding blush from Casil.

“ _Hi nid nuz kiir. Zu’u paak hi,_ ” he scolded, dunking her head underwater before she could react. She gasped for breath when her face broke the surface again, before quickly being met with the rough, scouring texture of some vaguely clean section of her shirt. Miraak gripped one of her arms, raising it up above her head before he began to roughly scrub the soot off. “ _Los hi oblaan krosisiil fah daar dok_ _?_ ”

Casil did not fully understand all of his words, but she understood enough. She struggled to break her hands away to answer his question, at which time Miraak took the opportunity to scrub her face.

‘He was my _friend,’_ she managed to sign, a sentence she would love to have spit at him if she had a voice.

Miraak let out a idle hum, shoving her face back into the water before he pulled her closer to continue his work. “You do yourself a disservice by neglecting yourself in your lamentation,” he scolded, swatting one of her hands away when she tried to stop him from washing the soot from her cheek. “You are lucky your kind is resilient to disease, lest you lose the only part of you that makes you worth saving.”

Casil let out a hiss through her teeth, managing to wiggle and turn to face him. She tried to hit him, but the older man had stopped her hand with little effort. The two fell still. Casil’s eyes glowed faintly in the darkness as she glowered down at Miraak. His eyes could have easily been mistaken for shadows from his brow. His face was cold and emotionless. Casil balled her hand into a fist, using the other to prop herself up on his chest. Her lips quivered and pursed tightly, before her head hung in defeat. She let herself fall against him, burying her face against his collarbone. A weak sob escaped from her, and Miraak let go of her wrist.

 _“Nu, nu, mal dovahkiin.  Hi fen ni luv. Nii vobalaan do hi_ _,_ ” he said in a low, rumbling tone. Casil weakly hit his chest with a hand a few times, trembling as his arms brought themselves around her. “ _Dii rot ahraan med tuz, nuz Zu’u fent vey daar folaas do hi. Daar sahlo fen ni dreh fah dovahkiin_ _._ I will not allow it. _Hi mah Alduin nunon voth dii aak. Nu_ _,_ ” Miraak pulled the shirt back up to continue scrubbing Casil clean of coal, “ _Zu’u vaat grohiikjul Zu’u spaan hi. Dreh ni meyz rahgron Zu’u faah daar. Dii vaat wah_ _.”_

Casil finally gave up in her struggle, leaning on him as he cleaned the soot from her frail frame. She listened to the sound of the water, his low breathing, the distant chirps of night insects and the faint cry of some sort of nocturnal bird. His work was done much quicker now that she had stopped her squirming. He slowed on her wounds, very gently tending to them with a pale glow of magic after he made sure he had cleaned them out. He finally stood, scooping her up once more before he carried her to the shore. There was a moment of hesitation, before he carefully set her down on his robes and bundled her up inside of them to shield her from the cold. Casil rested her head against his chest as he carried her back inside, resting her beside the fire before going to find himself a dry pair of clothing. Casil watched into the fire for a few long moments, bundled up into his clothing. The smell of old books had not worked itself out of the fibers yet, and the tired woman mused that she would always associate him now with the scent. She pulled the fabric closer, fingers absent-mindedly working over the gold embroidery that ran along the edges. Her eyes drifted upwards finally to where she could hear the larger man walking on the floor above, no doubt shifting for something else to wear or to dry himself off with. Casil stood, before making her way up one of the flights of stairs after him.

For a mage, it amazed Casil how in shape he was. He was older, especially for a nord of his time, but his muscles remained well defined. She paused in the doorway of the spare room, leaving herself a moment to examine the shapes of his muscles on his back, as well as the myriad of scars that overlay them. The worst of which was the rather large scar that remained from Hermaeus Mora’s attack; a nice gash that spanned near the small of his back that reflected around his sternum on the other side. The man tossed a spare shirt aside once he was dry, moving to grab a pair of trousers before he noticed the bosmer leaning in the doorway. The priest turned, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Go back downstairs, dovahkiin. Before you make yourself ill from the cold,” he ordered. Casil shrugged, before she pushed herself off of the door frame and shuffled over to him. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his broad torso and buried her face into his side. Miraak’s lips pursed tightly, arm awkwardly raised up above her shoulder as he waited to see what she wanted.

Casil finally looked up, a frustrated, determined glow in her eyes. She reached up and took his rough face in her hands, before pulling him down so her lips could meet his in a fierce, rather angry kiss.

It was the only incentive and permission he needed. His fingers came to roughly scoop her up, spinning so he could drop her onto his bed. Her fingers moved up to run through his black-grey hair, eyes squeezed tightly closed. His robe fell from her thin frame, and was soon replaced by his hands. Casil shuddered, dragging one hand down the back of his neck as he roughly devoured her mouth. A large hand came to grip her hip, while the other explored up her side and to her chest. There was no finesse to either of their movements; one had spent the last 4000 years depraved and on his own, the other only had experience from their one night before with him. Neither seemed to care though.

Miraak pulled away from her lips before leaving a trail of hot kisses down her neck, leaving a few light nips as he did so. Casil pulled his head close to her skin, head tilted back in revelry as he explored her body. One hand found itself to her chest, thumb rubbing slowly over a nipple as the other hand pushed itself between her legs. He pushed her into the bed a bit more, pulling away from his kisses so he could gaze at the woman below him. She was fragile. Thin. A delicate frame that was easy for him to overpower if he wanted. But the quiet little dragon had fight in her, and he liked that.

Casil’s eyes fluttered open to a half-lid state, wondering why her lover had suddenly stopped. A shiver rolled down her spine at the rather predatory look he gave her.

“ _Hi nok til med zahrahmiik. Kolos drey hin krif bo, mal dovah? Zu’u koraav yol ko hin miin_ _.”_ The words rolled out of his mouth like a deep, earthy purr. Casil’s cheeks burned at the vague understanding of what he said. She hated that voice. She hated him. She hated that this all made her tremble like a sapling in a storm. She gave Miraak a fierce stare, teeth gritted for a moment. His soulless eyes didn’t stray from her form, and a ghost of a smile haunted his face. “There is nobody here but you and I,” he purred, one hand finally moving to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. She turned to try to bite him, and he let her. “ _Til nid kul zeymahzin het, nunon uznahgaar rahgot paar. Un gron zeim hin suleyk. Dreh ni vonun nol Zu’u."_

Casil pushed herself up, meeting his lips with ferocity as her hands ran down his back. She was angry. She was sad. She was tired, frustrated, at a loss, grieving, so many emotions.

He finally rubbed his thumb against her clit, earning a frustrated and strangled moan from the elf as she bit his lower lip.

She hated him, so much. She hated his gut and every fiber of his being. She hated that she needed him. She wished she could have killed him in Apocrypha.

A thick finger pushed up inside of her, causing her to let out a gasp before pulling away from their frenzied kisses.

She hated that Sterlas had to die and Jenassa had to leave for awhile. She hated she was left alone with this man. She hated him.

Casil placed weak kisses against his collarbone as his finger slowly delved into her, exploring the ways his touch made her squirm. His hand other hand held her hips still, and it was driving her crazy.

Paarthurnax had warned her. They had all warned her. She didn’t want the first’s help. She would have done it on her own if it had been in her power.

Casil’s head tilted back sharply, a sharp gasp emitting from half parted lips as his fingers found her sweet spot. She melted under his touch, falling back onto the bed again. His body curved over her’s and his lips found her ear, leaving soft kisses and nibbles as he whispered sweet nothings in draconic to her, a second finger entering her to stroke at the spot he had found.

She hated he had to be so arrogant, so in control, so prideful. She knew she was searching for a companion in him that did not exist, and it wretched her heart.

Casil breathed hard, hips violently jerking up to his touch as her hands grasped at his back for some sort of hold. Small sounds escaped her throat, feeble traces of moans she wish she could emit. Miraak would take them though, with a cruel smirk on his face. He would take every small sound the mute would make, and revel in them.

Maybe she saw a glimmer of a human under the corrupted husk of a man. Maybe she was digging for something she could not find in herself.

Casil arched back, body trembling hard as he brought her to climax. Any hint of the cold from sitting in the lake was long gone now. The elf brought a hand to her mouth, covering it tightly as she felt tears well up in her eyes. Miraak pulled her hand away from her mouth, lips meeting hers in another fierce kiss. She tugged on his shoulders, before trying to push him back onto the bed as his fingers removed themselves from her. He humored her and allowed it, glossy black eyes watching with intent at what the trembling woman might do.

They were born as means to an end, as puppets in the grander scheme of the gods. They knew it. They hated it. They could not control it.

Casil panted, hands pushing him back before she awkwardly straddled him. Her hands rested on his shoulders, bowing her head in a semblance of shame. One of his hands came to grip her hip firmly, the other cupped her face in a taunting carass.

“ _Dii mal dovah, grik frin kreh Zu’u…_ ”

He could control her. Maybe it was enough of a illusion for him.

She lowered herself onto him, eliciting a deep, sweet moan from him. Her body trembled, remembering his girth and the slight pain he had caused last time. A ragged sigh escaped from her as she hunched over onto him, digging her nails into his chest. The last gave a deep, shaky breath, before she tried to get her hips to move against him.

He had trapped her, bent her. She knew he had. She just didn’t know what to do without him.

Casil rode him with uneven, unexperienced bounces. Her nails dragged down his chest, back hunched over him as she poured out her anger and frustration. His head tilted back, eyes closed with a pleased smirk on his face as he allowed her to ride him. He would turn the tables, but for now her unbottled emotions were arousing. She managed a pace that drew out a consistent stream of tiny groans from her, head bowed down.

She wanted a different bond with him. A more normal one.

Without warning, Miraak grabbed her firmly and flipped her under him. He turned her so she lay on her belly, before gripping her hips and tilting them upwards as he re-entered her. A soft whine came from her as he filled her again, trembling under his much bigger, heavier form. His free hand rested by her head to support his bulk as he began his slow, powerful thrusts. Casil buried her face into the furs of the bed, hands clenching into fists as each thrust caused her tiny body to shudder. Miraak slammed his face into her neck, his hot breath rolling off of her skin as he panted against her.

Maybe she wanted to love him.

His grunts became louder as he picked up his pace, fingers digging into her stomach as he held her back against him. Casil brought a hand to her mouth, feeling a few tears roll down her cheeks. The bed creaked loudly under each movement the first made. Casil let herself go to the hazy pleasure. She felt his teeth meet the spot between her neck and her shoulder, sinking in a rough bite. Casil arched back into him, her moan cut off by her own shortcomings. His breathing was erratic, and his moans rumbled through his chest like thunder. His hand slid up from her stomach to her neck, pulling her head back so he could bite her harder. There was pain. He was not gentle with her, not now. That had been reserved for their previous time, on accounts that she had never been with a man before. He did not show restraint now. His hips pounded into her’s as he let out a sort of feral growl into her neck, allowing himself the full extent of his desire. She was _his._ Casil felt herself reach her second orgasm, a silent scream rolling from her lips. He was rough, too rough, but she could not find it in her lustful haze to ask for anything less. She could feel the blood roll down her neck from his bite as he gave a few last violent, staggering thrusts. He smashed her into the pelts, grinding her face into the fur as he let out one last deep groan. He removed himself from her, letting himself unload onto the pelts below her as he panted.

The two remained like that in silence for a few minutes, collecting themselves and their breaths. He finally pulled away, getting off of the bed and leaving the trembling elf where he had left her. She kept her eyes closed for a few more long moments, quivering until Miraak suddenly scooped her up. He held her close to his chest, carrying her to her own bedroom. The man shoved her under the sheets, before he joined her. His arms wrapped themselves around her in a possessive vice, hugging her close to his chest. Casil did not complain or struggle. Her tired hands found themselves feebly trying to lock with his, to which he finally allowed. They exchanged no words. There was no need to. Casil did not take long to fall asleep, cuddled up against the old nord’s chest.

Maybe things could just be quiet for awhile, she thought before drifting off.

But of course they wouldn’t be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Hi nid nuz kiir. Zu’u paak hi,”** \-- You [are] nothing but [an] child. I’m ashamed [of] you
> 
> \--> **“Los hi oblaan krosisiil fah daar dok?”** \-- Are you done [with your] sorrow for that dog?
> 
> \--> **“Nu, nu, mal dovahkiin. Hi fen ni luv. Nii vobalaan do hi,”** \-- Now, now, little dragonborn. You’ll not cry. It [is] unworthy of you.
> 
> \--> **“Dii rot ahraan med tuz, nuz Zu’u fent vey daar folaas do hi. Daar sahlo fen ni dreh fah dovahkiin."** \--My words hurt like [a] blade, but I shall cut these mistakes from you.This weakness will not do for [an] dragonborn.
> 
> \--> **"Hi mah Alduin nunon voth dii aak. Nu,”** \-- You felled Alduin only with my guidance. But, 
> 
> \--> **“Zu’u vaat grohiikjul Zu’u spaan hi. Dreh ni meyz rahgron Zu’u faah daar. Dii vaat wahl.”** \--I promised [the] wolfman I [would] protect you. Do not become angry [at] me for that. My promises rises [I uphold my promise]
> 
> \--> **“Hi nok til med zahrahmiik. Kolos drey hin krif bo, mal dovah? Zu’u koraav yol ko hin miin.”** \-- You lie there like [an] sacrifice. Where did your fight go, little dragon? I see [the] fire in your eyes.
> 
> \--> **“Til nid kul zeymahzin het, nunon uznahgaar rahgot paar. Un gron zeim hin suleyk. Dreh ni vonun nol Zu’u.”** \-- There [is] no good companion[ship] here, only unbridled anger [and] ambition. Our bond [is] beyond your power. Do not hide from me.
> 
> \--> **“Dii mal dovah, grik frin kreh Zu’u…”** \-- My little dragon, so eager [to] bend [to] me.


	49. XLIX. Beneath The Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Start of Part III. Dawnguard

Casil felt that she should not have been surprised when Miraak left only a few days later without a word.

The woman folded her arms across her chest, listening to the crackling of the fire. Of course. Just like that, the nord upped and left to Divines knew where. He had left some things which Casil took as a sign that he intended to return, but it didn’t change how upset it made her.

Of all times, she was left alone. The few skeletons that had survived the battle with Alduin made up her only company, quietly scurrying around in the shadows of the house as they went about menial daily tasks. 

For a brief moment, it was like things had never happened. She had never met Sterlas. The dragons never came back. 

It wasn’t true though, and the illusion did not last for long. Casil spent the first day alone simply collecting her thoughts. She buried herself in her journal, documenting her thoughts and feelings through writing and doodles. It helped a little. She spent some time working on the translations she had from the walls, though the task was far less exciting now that she was in close contact with someone who not only predated the walls but also fluently spoke the long-forgotten language. 

Miraak could have simply glanced over and read what Casil had spent months translating like it was nothing. The bosmer vaguely wondered which was his first language, the common nordic tongue or dovazul. Maybe it was both. She really hated him, though begrudgingly she could understand where his arrogance stemmed from. While it didn’t excuse his horrible behaviour, being somewhat of a prodigy and the first of some weird spun-off human with the powers of your gods no doubt had an interesting play on his childhood.

There was a thought. Casil snorted to herself as her quill scratched the paper. Miraak having a childhood. Being a child. Not being a 4000 year old with a 40 something year old’s body. His age weirded her out, she wasn’t going to lie. Elves lived for a long time if they were careful, but 4000 was… outside of even her scope. She herself was somewhere in the upper 100’s. Jenassa was probably around the same. Sterlas was in his mid 30’s, before the damn dog kicked the bucket.

She let out a sigh, dropping the quill to rub her face. It was hard not to notice his absence. No more snarky remarks. No more dog in the doorway. Even when he had been trapped as a werewolf, he made his presence known. It was weird having it be gone, after their five or so years of living together. Casil shifted her gaze to the fire, resting her head on her palm. 

Stupid man was out there beyond Nirn, waiting for her with a bunch of nords. Casil managed a sad smile. Fucker was probably enjoying all the food and drink he could get. He deserved it. She pushed back some tears, shaking her head before looking back to her journal.

 

Miraak did not come back by the end of the week. Casil felt less mad at him by that point. The man had spent 4 millennia trapped in a unchanging sea of books and slime with no company beyond 3 brainwashed dragons and a ball of tentacles. He had every right to enjoy the world again. She said he didn’t have to hang around anyways, right? She cursed herself for getting mad before. 

Casil shifted to working on actual repairs to the house with the help of her skeletons. Where had Miraak even gone off to? She wish he had at least let her know.

 

The ruins had seen far better days. The disrepair everything had fallen into since the last time he had been in the world was baffling to him. 4000 years had changed a lot, and he was still struggling to adjust to it all.

Miraak’s cultists had at least made the place livable. The priest had given them a few places to scout out while he dealt with Alduin, and it seems they had decided on one of the more out of the way ruins. He couldn’t complain. He couldn’t deny that he was still feeling  _ jumpy. _

The ruins had been plundered at some point in the past, but not everything had been taken. Miraak thumbed through the pages of an ancient book, only vaguely able to make out the dovazul written on the crumbling, burnt pages.

The Dragon Cult was long gone. The way of life he had known was long gone. It was a sobering thought Miraak had not allowed himself to focus on since his release from Apocrypha. But now that Alduin was dead, he allowed himself the introspection. 

He had been gone from Nirn for over 4000 years. A lot had changed. Where did he fit now? Now that the dragons no longer had the power they once held, now that he had fled from Hermaeus Mora, now that Alduin had been slain? He had spent so much time planning his escape and keeping himself tied up on other things that he wasn’t sure what to do now that it had been achieved. 

Miraak rubbed his mouth, gazing over the book of long forgotten hymns. Everyone he had known was long gone. Even if they weren’t, it wouldn’t have mattered. The man they had once looked up to and admired had died in a blaze of scorn in a hurricane of dragons.

History hardly remembered him. Nahkriin was right; he had been forgotten, erased, wiped out of existence. 

Over three decades of devotion, praise, power. A whole island to his name. His  _ name.  _

He snapped the book closed, causing one of the near by cultists to flinch at the suddenness of the sound. 

He had abandoned those false gods. What did he care that he was forgotten by them? 

Miraak pushed back in his chair, standing from the table he sat at.

He refused to admit that maybe some part of him longed for the past. The familiarity. The comfort and stability. The time before he had found the first of the accursed Black Books and before he had fallen into Hermaeus Mora’s snare. When he loyally served the dragons and had nothing to hide, nothing to fear. He had been a god amongst men.

No he was hiding in the crumbling remains of a ruin with a band of cultists no bigger than 20 people, the remnant of a bygone era forgotten. 

The nord made his way out to a balcony to get some fresh air. The stale smell of the ruins was getting too close to what he recalled of Apocrypha, and it was making him anxious. His bare hands came to rest on cold stone, shoulders hunching forward as he surveyed the mountain valley below. The ruins were tucked up into the mountains on the north western section of Skyrim, long forgotten to anyone in the remote vicinity. The sun was hidden behind thick clouds, a reminder that fall was rolling in. 

Hermaeus Mora had not shown any sign of himself since his escape from Apocrypha. Miraak rubbed his hands over the railing, feeling the gritty stone against the pads of his fingers. It was uncharacteristic in a way. There was no possibility that the Daedric Prince was just going to let him escape; he had made that clear with his last-ditch attempt to murder him. It would have succeeded too, had Casil not managed to pull him through to Nirn last second. Miraak brought a hand to his chest, absentmindedly rubbing over the scar he had received.

Casil.

Miraak’s brow knitted together in thought as he watched a hawk drift upwards on the breeze, circling up to the ruins from the valley below.

He did not know how he felt about the woman still. He loathed her to a degree, there was no doubt about that. Whiny, weak. Unable to use the Thu’um. The Last Dragonborn was a lowly mute bosmer necromancer who made a living on stealing from the dead. Despicable. 

But she had made it that far. She had gotten him out of Apocrypha. She had helped defeat Alduin. She was determined and no doubt a skilled mage.

The two had drawn blood and the two had made love with each other. 

Complicated. He should just leave their relationship to the word  _ complicated.  _ He vaguely wondered if Casil felt the same. Half of him wanted to strangle her and the other half was ready to chop down anyone who laid a hand on her. He wanted her to die and he wanted her to be his forever.

Miraak let out a long, frustrated exhale. Complicated. He didn’t recall relationships with people being so frustrating. Maybe it was the result of his isolation. Everything had become so much more tedious since he had returned to Tamriel, though he did his damnedest to hide it. He found himself getting wrapped up in such small details frequently, like the texture of fur or the warmth of the sun. He felt so much more disconnected with everything. Reading about the changes of the world were nothing in comparison to experiencing them. 

He wasn’t the only one in chaos though. The civil war between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks raged on. The political atmosphere was in turmoil. Skyrim was split between loyalty and could hardly unify itself long enough to take out Alduin. Miraak had made himself known to the current political parties at the summit, and he wondered if he could ease his way into power.

Yes, it was a start he would consider. 

“Lord Miraak?”

The nord glanced back at the cultist who lingered in the doorway. “What is it?” Miraak grunted.

“Preparations have been finished to get supplies- was there any last requests you wished to make?”

Miraak shifted his weight, before reaching into the pocket of his garb. He produced a sealed letter, before handing it over to the cultist. “Deliver that to the last dragonborn. Make haste,” he ordered, before returning his focus to the valley below.

There was much to consider.


	50. L. Lethargy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has been a nightmare lmao you all probably know how I feel. College ammirite. Nothing drains the will to live and motivation like a heap of midterms and the taxonomy of 30 different bird families and orders.  
> Also distractions...

One of Miraak’s cultists was not who Casil was expecting to see at her door in the middle of a rainy evening. Casil let the drenched dunmer into her house, to which he produced a miraculously dry letter for her before plopping down in front of the fire.

“Lord Miraak requested the hasty delivery of this letter to you. If you have a response I will ask that you write it as soon as you can. I’m supposed to return back to the rest as quickly as possible,” they said, taking their mask off and shaking their soaked hair out.

Casil eyed them, before sitting down at the table. At least Miraak had the nerve to send her a letter… days after leaving without a word. She rolled her eyes at the thought, opening it up before pulling out the very neatly folded contents. 

The bosmer blinked. It was a fairly large sheet of paper, over which was a incredibly precise chart of dovazul lettering next to the nordic tongue she spoke. Below were a handful of notes, and then a string of draconic symbols.

Casil gave a soft snort. Bastard hadn’t forgotten that. She glanced at the cultist, before smiling at the paper as she looked it over. She traced her fingers over the letters in the page for a moment, before getting up to grab her own roll of paper, ink, and a quill. Tearing off a corner of a already wrinkled piece of paper, she scrawled a question before balling it up and tossing it at the cultist.

The paper wad bounced off the back of his head, and he jerked forward in surprise. The dunmer picked it up and unraveled it as Casil sat down to write a letter back to Miraak.

‘Where is Miraak staying at?’

The cultist eyed the woman, before crumpling the paper back into a ball and gently tossing it into the fire. “We aren’t supposed to tell anyone.” Casil threw the man a look, but he shrugged. “If Lord Miraak wants you to know, i’m sure he’ll let you know.”

Casil let out a long exhale of frustration.  _ Of course.  _ What else did she expect. Her eyes rolled, and she returned to focus on the letter. 

The two sat in silence until Casil was finished with her note. She folded it up into a strip of canvas and sealed it with wax, before handing it to the cultist. 

Warmed up at least, the cultist donned his mask again before taking the scroll. “This will be delivered to Lord Miraak soon,” he replied, turning to leave.

Casil nodded, scribbling a thanks. As quickly as he had come, the cultist left.

And Casil was alone again.

The woman plopped back down, pulling the letter Miraak had sent to her. All those years and months working to translate things and this bastard just knew everything. Her eyes fell on the draconic at the bottom. Casil grabbed a sheet of paper from her stack, before working on deciphering what it said with the key.

 

She felt a little stupid for getting mad at the cultist for not telling her where Miraak was, when he had written it into the letter. To her surprise, it was largely in common nordic, although the text was crude in places where dovazul lacked a corresponding letter (namely, C). A few words were in proper draconic, which she felt thankful he kept to rather simple words she could translate.

The man had holed himself up somewhere to the far north west, in ruins she hadn’t even heard of before.What he was doing there, however, he left out. Casil scratched her chin, reading over her translation of his letter. It did not sound like he planned to return back any time soon, and she couldn’t help but feel a mild pang of sorrow at that. Though while he hadn’t told her  _ not  _ to come find him, he didn’t exactly  _ invite  _ her either.

Casil kicked back in her chair, pushing back so it rocked on its back two feet. She looked at the fire, dangling the translated not by her side.

Complicated. She let out a quiet groan and sunk down in her seat, careful not to let herself topple over. Should she bother going out there to meet up with him? He hadn’t even said goodbye. She rocked herself back and forth, using a foot to hook under the long wood bar that ran the length of the table. The arrogant bastard would probably get a kick out of her groveling back to him. The woman contorted her face, scrunching her brow and turning her lips upwards. He would have to come back and apologize to  _ her  _ for up and leaving. She pulled herself back towards the table with a clunk of the chair, slapping the letter back onto the table.

But what would she do in the meantime?

She frowned for a moment. The meantime? Meantime until  _ what?  _ What was she waiting for? Alduin was  _ dead, gone.  _

She had spent the last year  _ waiting  _ for things to happen. Waiting for spring. Waiting for Delphine’s letter. Waiting for Miraak to return to Nirn. Waiting.

Was she waiting for him or Jenassa to come back? Would they even come back? And then what?

Casil slouched in the chair more in mild shock. She had spent the last year anticipating and waiting and now that it was over she suddenly felt  _ empty  _ and… bored even. By gods had she been tired of it and wanted nothing more than a break by the time they got to Alduin, but even now, maybe a week or two since the great creature’s demise, Casil could feel herself growing restless. Fidgety. 

She pushed herself back and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of ale off a shelf before cracking it open. The woman moved to lean against the doorway, taking a swig of the alcohol as she surveyed the main hall of her home. A skeleton was on the floor above, quietly sweeping as it went about small chores. 

The anxiousness would go away eventually, she thought to herself. She just had to give it time. Maybe going back to salvaging metal would help ease her down from the bullshit she had just been pulled through.

Her eyes narrowed and she took another big gulp of her drink. The war was still going, and she could hardly believe it. All her talk to Sterlas about hoping it would continue just so she could make more money off of it suddenly tasted like regret. She had gotten her wish. Hell, they had hardly stopped so she could kill the  _ World-Eater.  _ And if it weren’t for Miraak, she wasn’t sure if she would have succeeded in getting the two warring parties to stop.

Miraak. She grunted and pushed herself away from the doorframe, wandering across the main hall and into the greenhouse wing. She had to rely so much on that man to get through everything. She felt pathetic. How could she feel sad that this man had upped and left? How could she have let him  _ seduce  _ her? She almost felt gross thinking about it that way.

Stupid, arrogant, nasty, perverted, power-hungry, greedy, stick-up-the ass bastard. Whenever that smug-faced son of a bitch turned up again, she was going to slap him good! Making  _ her  _ feel like some naive heart strung hoity-toity child! The nerve of it! She may not be as old as he was, but by gods she was no  _ child.  _ She was old enough to be any other nord alive’s great great some odd grandmother! 

Casil frumped, squinting at the beehive that hung up in the rafters of the greenhouse as she plopped herself down on the edge of one of the six large stone boxes. She crossed her legs and took a swig of her drink. 

Good riddance to this world. She set the bottle down beside her, turning to look at the plants in the basin. Closest to her was a nice little lavender plant, and next to it a log that was growing some scaly pholiota. At the end was a small juniper berry plant. She had planted each pot and planter in the greenhouse initially with the intention to help propagate useful alchemy regents, but had ended up just using them to plant things that looked nice to her. It was an eclectic assortment of plants she had gathered over the years, but for the most part she was the only one who paid it any mind. Sterlas never had. Jenassa hardly had. Had Miraak? She didn’t know and didn’t want to think about him anymore at the moment.

Instead, Casil reached out to adjust one of the lavenders stems idly. No, she did not want to think about the inky-eyed dragonborn. It hurt to do that, and that just made her feel stupid. She would try to go back to metal salvaging, maybe explore a little on her own. She had her skeletons, and she knew her necromancy was getting better and better. How many skeletons had she wielded against Alduin? She felt rather  _ proud  _ about the number, even if it took every ounce of her concentration to keep them all roped in. She reminded herself to leave a note in her house when she left, in case Jenassa came back while she was gone.

The bosmer picked up her drink and took another sip.

Good riddance.

 

Miraak could almost  _ hear  _ the irritation in Casil’s letter, which was funny because the damn woman had never made enough sound for him to even  _ remotely  _ imagine what she would sound like if she could talk.

Was she really mad that he had just left? The man leaned back against the railing of the balcony outside of his room, taking a sip of his drink before setting it on the railing behind him. Curious. And from the sounds of it, she hadn’t taken the time to read what he had written to her in dovahzul before she wrote her own letter. Oh where were you. Why did you just leave blah blah blah…

Miraak rolled his eyes, shifting the letter in his hand. She acted like they were married or something. He shuddered at the thought, though he couldn’t help but be curious how much she thought their relationship meant to him, or what it was. Did she think he  _ liked  _ her? Truely? He thought he had made it clear enough that their relationship was not a sweet romantic companionship. He  _ owned  _ her, and it was simple as that. The little dragonborn was under his thumb, and when he told her to jump she was going to jump. This wasn’t two lovers, this was master and slave.

He folded the letter up when he was done, tucking it into his robe before turning to face the outdoors. Night had fallen, and the torchlight flickered and cast shadows across the balcony and through the doorway. Moonlight illuminated the valley below, though he could make out storm clouds over the mountains. Fall was in swing, and the weather was going back to cold and chilly. 

Hermaeus Mora still had not found him yet, and from the sounds of it Casil hadn’t been found yet either. Miraak hunched over the railing, drumming his fingers against the stone as he scanned the land below. What was the Daedric Prince waiting for? Miraak understood the daedra’s hesitation to attack them after they had escaped. If Miraak died, and Casil refused Mora’s offer, Mora had two options: freely give Casil back her voice, or let the world perish. If he killed Casil too early, Miraak would be unable to stop Alduin as much as he didn’t want to admit that, and if Mora knew the words to Dragonrend then he too would have to give Miraak that knowledge freely or risk the world perishing. 

But Alduin was gone now, and nothing was stopping him from slaying the two rebellious dragonborn for turning on him. Was there something else he wasn’t seeing? Another reason to keep either of them alive? Or had Hermaeus simply not found them yet? Had something else caught the monster’s attention? Miraak couldn’t imagine something had suddenly popped up that would so quickly quell his anger. His plan had  _ failed.  _ He had both lost  _ his  _ dragonborn, and failed to rope in what was supposed to be his replacement. 

Miraak couldn’t help but smirk. Serves Mora right. Even the old daedra had failed to see Casil’s stubbornness in the threads of fate. Though, Miraak couldn’t help but wonder how he had missed his own escape. He had often wondered if Hermaeus Mora had been aware of his plans all along and simply waited to act on them or not, but there was no way that the Prince of Fate could have missed that not only would Miraak  _ live,  _ but the other dragonborn as well. And he would escape. And she would refuse to serve the daedra.

How could he miss that? Miraak would have loved to pin it on the idea that Mora wasn’t as good at scrying fate as he always claimed, but the nord knew that was untrue. He saw a frightening amount. Did that mean that fate was not certain? Certainly, to him at least. Casil had given Miraak back the control of his own fate, and even old Herma-Mora couldn’t have seen that. 

The beating of wings snapped him out of his thoughts. A shadow passed in front of the moon, before circling around to land on a outcropping of rock not far from Miraak’s balcony. The dragon craned his neck to look at the dragonborn.

“ _ Drem Yol Lok, Thur Miraak, _ ” the dragon rumbled with a bow of his head.

Miraak straightened himself out, arms folding. “Sulronaazrath.  _ Zu’u hind hi lost pruzah rotte drun?” _

The dragon let out a rumble in his throat, almost a chuckle. “ _ Geh, ahrk nid. Hi grind lot qahnaar, drog. Grik tey ved  hahdrim zeymahi. Pogaan paar koraav hi ag ol fod lost us. Pogaan dreh ni hind aam grik munax thur, grik maltiid fah laat gein mah…”  _

Miraak narrowed his eyes. “ _ Nust fod kos onik dahmaan laat miiraad. Aar, uv zaam. Nunon miiraad, uv nust hind fah dinok _ _.”  _  He made a idle motion with a hand. “ _ Draal Zu’u fen ni funt bolaav. Ahrk fod hi hind dein hahdrimiil, dreh ni daal zu’u erei hi lost pruzaan rot wah tinvaak,”  _ he hissed.

Sulronaazrath pulled back his gums to snarl, but stopped. The dragon growled, spreading his wings out. “ _ Kos kein hin rotte, dovahkiin. Orin fod suleykiil los hin kiinvahzah, Alduin lost kriaan naal haaleiil, hi kos onik wah dahmaan daar hi los nuz, joor. Dreh ni kos mey. _ _ ”  _

Miraak narrowed his eyes. “ _ Pogaan lost mahlaan us, pogaan fen mah mulhaan. Unt dremiil hi aal aav niin. Mulaagiil dii Thu’um lost mul ruz orin Lein-Naak. Nii vahzahiil rel daar lein. Lost nii ni, dez nis lost daal dii haal. Rah, Bormahu, bolaav zu’u dii du’ul. Hi aal lost rel ko vod, nuz hin bok ko. Hin zeymahhe fod dahmaan daar, uv nust fen siiv geinne qethhe nus ko hofkahsejuni. Zu’u prodah pah qiilaan us. Wahl daar kinzon hahdrim. Zu’u lost ni filok Apocrypha kos nahlot.” _

The beast took to the sky. “ _ Geh, thuri. _ ” The dragon replied simply, before he returned to the sky.

Miraak watched Sulronaazrath fly into the night sky. The dragons were his to control now. Alduin had fallen under his hand, and with that he demanded the dovah’s service. And with them, mer and man would have no choice but to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **Zu’u hind hi lost pruzah rotte drun** \-- I hope you have good words to bring me?
> 
> \--> **Geh, ahrk nid. Hi grind lot qahnaar, drog. Grik tey ved hahdrim zeymahi. Pogaan paar koraav hi ag ol fod lost us. Pogaan dreh ni hind aam grik munax thur, grik maltiid fah laat gein mah…** \--Yes, and no. You meet great resistance, lord. Such a story has blackened the minds of my brothers. Many desire to see you burn as you should have before. Many do not wish to serve such a cruel master, so shortly since the last one fell.
> 
> \--> **Nust fod kos onik dahmaan laat miiraad. Aar, uv zaam. Nunon miiraad, uv nust hind fah dinok** \--They should be wise and remember the last option. Servant, or slave. The only options, or they wish for death. 
> 
> \--> **Draal Zu’u fen ni funt bolaav. Ahrk fod hi hind dein hahdrimiil, dreh ni daal zu’u erei hi lost pruzaan rot wah tinvaak** \-- A prayer I will not fail to grant. And if you wish to keep your mind, do not return to me until you have better words to speak. 
> 
> \--> **Kos kein hin rotte, dovahkiin. Orin fod suleykiil los hin kiinvahzah, Alduin lost kriaan naal haaleiil, hi kos onik wah dahmaan daar hi los nuz, joor. Dreh ni kos mey.** \--Be wary of your words, dragonborn. Even if your power is your birthright, and Alduin was slain by your hands, you would be wise to remember that you are but mortal. Do not be a fool.
> 
> \--> **Pogaan lost mahlaan us, pogaan fen mah mulhaan. Unt dremiil hi aal aav niin. Mulaagiil dii Thu’um lost mul ruz orin Lein-Naak. Nii vahzahiil rel daar lein. Lost nii ni, dez nis lost daal dii haal. Rah, Bormahu, bolaav zu’u dii du’ul. Hi aal lost rel ko vod, nuz hin bok ko. Hin zeymahhe fod dahmaan daar, uv nust fen siiv geinne qethhe nus ko hofkahsejuni. Zu’u prodah pah qiilaan us. Wahl daar kinzon hahdrim. Zu’u lost ni filok Apocrypha kos nahlot.** \--Many have fallen before, and many will fall still. Try my patience and you may join them. My strength and my Thu'um were stronger than even the world eater. It is my right to rule this world. Was it not, fate could not have returned to my hands. The gods, Akatosh, grant me my crown. You may have ruled in the past, but your era is over. Your brothers should remember that, or they will find ones bones a statue in my palace. I expect all to bow before me. Make that sharp to the mind. I have not escaped Apocrypha to be silenced.


	51. LI. Cough Syrup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has read this, left comments, kudos, etc. It means a ton ;o;!!

It was not as easy as Casil was hoping it was going to be. It was not the same anymore. The war had not changed, the world had largely returned to normal with the exception of the dragons that still lingered around (although they seemed to cause far less trouble now).

A few years ago she would have laughed at herself, crying in a tent over the loss of the big, stupid, smelly dog. Even last year part of her might have just rolled her eyes and told her current self to get over it. She didn’t like the company anyways, right? She was a loner, a necromancer, a questionable mage who made a living on the death of others. But there she was, crying because her big stupid werewolf companion wasn’t there. Crying because that random mercenary she had picked up on a whim wasn’t there. Crying because even that smug, despicable bastard of a dragonborn wasn’t there. She was alone, and for the first time she  _ didn’t like it. _ In fact, she hated it! How had she survived all those years alone? It had been a struggle at first but she had taken Sterlas, Jenassa and even Miraak for granted. She had apparently acclimated to companionship faster than she had thought, and now she just felt… well, depressed, frankly. She missed people’s voices. She missed people laughing. She missed the comfort of having someone watch your back, of having someone else at the campfire, of a travel companion, of help, of… lots of things.

Casil lay in her tent, dejectedly staring at the canvas ceiling. Rain pattered against the sides, causing the tent walls to wiggle slightly as the drops hit. It was only afternoon, but the light in the tent was dim and grey thanks to the thick blanket of clouds that covered the sky. Beyond the sound of rain, it was quiet. It was cold, and she could get into her bedroll, but the woman didn’t feel like it.

She let out a heavy sigh. She was never going to go back to the life she had. She had changed, and though she didn’t always feel like it had, the world had changed too. She was adaptable, she could change, but suddenly she was afraid to. She had to, she would. But she could feel a pang of loss of how she had been living before Alduin returned. Another chapter of her life had closed. It was time to start a new one. The events that had transpired in the year Alduin had unleashed his fury on Nirn would be lost to time. Like the rest of her past, she would bury it in the yard next to her companion and that is where it would be laid to rest. It was time, as always, to look ahead. She bitterly reminded herself that this was why she didn’t hold tightly onto the past, and embraced changed. You could drown yourself if you reached too deep into the abyss of what was. It was time for a new day, a new Casil. She was, and never had been, the dragonborn. That was Miraak’s mantle to carry. She willed herself to try to accept that. Somewhere along the way the woman had gotten caught up in the epic, the story. Caught up in the legend and the myth. She had tried to be what she never could be: a hero. The champion, the good-hearted soul to save the people. That was never her place, her thing. Miraak was no champion or hero either, but the man had charisma and the power to back his words. Casil was not meant for the spotlight. 

You do you. Sterlas had said that a lot, and now Casil was really feeling those words. He had been right. She’d tried to be something she wasn’t. Skyrim had expected a flashy, powerful hero. The wall had depicted a heavily armored nord man with a sword. People wanted the kind of warrior bards would sing about for ages, that children would beg their grandparents to tell them about again, who would have statues carved in their likeness. That was what a  _ hero  _ was supposed to be, right?

Casil couldn’t help but snort at herself, furrowing her eyes as she focused on a spider slowly making its way across the top of the tent. 

No, that was not her. She was a mousy, small, frail wood elf. She relied on magic and necromancy. She was morally grey and had no qualms stealing from the dead or committing dishonorable acts. She didn’t like people. She couldn’t even  _ use  _ the powers associated with her roll, besides absorbing the souls of dragons. If anyone even remembered her story years from now, she could see that aspect being simply misinterpreted as some necromancy thing.

Miraak really  _ was  _ the hero people had been looking for. The powerful nord man, charismatic and strong. A silver tongue and a sharp blade, and a even a master of sorcery. He had control of the Thu’um like no other, as ancient and wise as he was arrogant. 

She wondered if he would have slain Alduin if he had helped Hakon and the others. Maybe there wasn’t  _ supposed  _ to be more than one dragonborn. Maybe Hermaeus Mora had managed to rope him in and screwed all of history up as a result. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t use the voice.

Casil rolled onto her side with a sigh. Maybe she would keep collecting weapons, salvage what she could. She only had maybe a month or two’s worth of gold left, but she still had some dragon bone as well to sell. Collect a comfortable amount, and  then leave Skyrim. Move to Elsweyr. There was no question about that as her location of choice. She could let Miraak do whatever he wanted to do, maybe pay Jenassa some extra as a thanks and just start her life over somewhere else, somewhere warmer, where nobody knew her. That seemed like a fair idea. If nothing else, it gave her time to think or reconsider, and she needed the gold anyways. She could never return back to this as a way of life, but she could at least use it to get her life back in order.

 

People watched Casil as she passed through the streets of Whiterun, and she tried her hardest to ignore the stares. It took her several trips back and forth from her carriage to get her supplies to Warmaiden’s, and she found herself missing Sterlas’s help and companionship. Adrianne was surprised to see her back to her usual business so soon, or at all, but the smith accepted Casil’s trade as she always did. 

Adrianne helped Casil haul one of the bags into the back of Warmaiden’s. “What happened to your friends?” She dared to question. It was odd for her to see Casil alone. The werewolf had been with her for at least five years, if not more; the woman wasn’t sure how long it took Casil to convince the guards or even herself to let the lupine into Whiterun.

Casil made a face, and Adrianne regretted asking the question. Setting the bag against the wall, Casil wiped her hands on her robe before producing her notepad from her bag. ‘Doing their own thing, mostly.’ She wrote.

Warmaiden’s owner nodded, shifting her glance to the ground before she moved past her husband to fetch Casil’s payment. “I was surprised to see you come back so soon. Did the whole ‘dragonborn’ thing not pay well?”

Casil snorted. ‘Didn’t pay at all.’

Adrianne read over the reply as she counted out the gold and made notes in her ledger. She raised an eyebrow. “You saved the world. Nobody bothered to pay any thanks?”

Casil shrugged. ‘I’d rather people forgot I was involved anyways.’

Ulfberth leaned back in his seat behind the desk, making a face. “Really? Well, it’s a mighty shame people don’t give you credit where credit is due,” he said, folding his beefy arms across his chest.

Casil shrugged once more. ‘It’s not my thing.’ She replied simply.

Adrianne nodded, before shuffling the coins into a bag. She held them out to Casil. “Take care at least. You’ve done Skyrim a favor that is far beyond what anyone could ask for.”

Casil pursed her lips, averting her gaze from either of the people before her. She took the coin purse, nodding her head slightly before shuffling to leave. She pushed the wood door open and stepped out into the chilly air of Whiterun with a sigh, letting the door fall closed behind her before she paused on Warmaiden’s porch. What all did she need…

She had not noticed the orc approaching her, assuming subconsciously that the man was on his way into warmaiden’s. “You there.”

The sudden low, commanding voice made Casil jerk with a start. She turned her attention to him, blinking. The grizzled orc paused a few feet away from her, eyeing her with mild suspicion. Casil did the same, not recognizing the sort of armor or garb the man wore. He even carried a crossbow, which was a weapon Casil did not see often in Skyrim. Casil tilted her head as a notification that she was listening.

“You’re the dragonborn, huh?” The orc gave a firm nod of his head, shifting his weight before folding his arms. Casil pursed her lips, waiting to see if he said more. “The Dawnguard is looking for anyone willing to fight against the growing vampire menace. I heard rumors that the dragonborn herself hung around here, and I couldn’t think of a better ally to have then you. What do you say?”

Casil seemed a little taken back at first. This had come out of left field. She wearily looked the man over, before scribbling her response on her notepad. ‘Dawnguard? And how did you know I was the person you were looking for? And vampire menace?’ Casil couldn’t say she had heard of a vampire menace, though to be fair she had been so focused on the  _ dragon  _ menace that if there had been a vampire one it had gone unnoticed by her. Dragons trumped vampire on the threat level in her opinion. 

The orc gave a grunt. “You don’t exactly  _ blend in  _ kid,” he said, answering that question first. “You haven’t noticed? I suppose with all of your  _ world saving  _ you might have been too busy to notice the rising number of vampire attacks.”

Obviously, no shit. She tried not to get irritated at that. 

He continued. “The Dawnguard is a group of vampire hunters. Our leader, Isran, is reestablishing it since the Hall of the Vigilants was torn to pieces by a group of vampires. Didn’t take the threat seriously.” She could hear a bit of edge to his voice, almost like he was advising her not to make the same mistake.

Sorry she had been busy, good gods. Casil twirled the stick of charcoal in her fingers, thinking a moment. 

“Need some time to think?” The orc asked simply with a snort. He turned to walk away. “If you find you want to help out, you can find Fort Dawnguard near Riften. We could use someone like you.”

Casil watched him walk away, reaching up to scratch her face with now ashy fingers. That had been… unexpected, to say the least. She shook her head, returning her writing utensils to her bag before heading towards the gate herself. 

 

Vampire hunting, huh? Casil adjusted her horse’s saddle. She never had anything really  _ against  _ vampires, but by all means she could understand how they could become a problem. She’d had her own scrapes with them, but she couldn’t help but wonder how much of a issue they were really causing. But that wasn’t really what was tugging on her mind.

What was tugging on her mind was the idea of another  _ adventure.  _ A replacement for the last year. Something she hoped would be less than Alduin, but a step up from metal scraping. Maybe something good to entertain her and make her less antsy. Hell, it could get her a few extra coins  _ and  _ metal at the same time, and speed up getting out Skyrim and moving to Elsweyr. The small woman pulled herself onto the steed’s back, patting the horse on the neck before urging him to head towards home.

Well, she might as well give it a look.

 

Jenassa was not expecting to see so many horses at Casil’s house, let alone so many  _ cultists.  _ In all honesty, she had entirely forgotten about Miraak’s shady followers once they had departed to their own direction from Windhelm’s docks, and seeing them suddenly show up was a bit of a shock to her. Had they come looking for Miraak? Well, presuming he hadn’t left. 

Cautiously, she approached on the back of her own horse, scanning for signs of trouble. Nothing particularly  _ bad  _ seemed to be going on, but she could tell they were a bit on edge. Jenassa raised a hand in greeting when the first few cultists noticed her, and to her relief they made no move to attack or show any signs of hostility. The Dunmer pulled her horse up to one of the few free trees near the house, dismounting and tying the lead to a branch before turning and stepping towards the house.

“Is something…  _ wrong? _ ” Jenassa asked, concern evident in her voice. 

A cultist shifted to reply, but was cut off when Miraak barged through the door.

“Stupid, foolish girl. _Mu kriin Lien-Naak rek vonuz krif soslun voth nid zeymahzin. Mey. Mey kiir,”_ he hissed, the sudden outburst and slam of the door causing a handful of his followers to jump and scatter in fear or surprise. The masked man whipped his head to Jenassa, before striding rather angrily over to her.

“Miraak, what is going on?” Jenassa asked slowly, hand moving to her sword hilt.

“That  _ foolish  _ elf left to join  _ vampire hunters  _ own her own,” he growled.

“And you  _ let  _ her?” Jenassa snapped. Vampire hunters? What was this about?

“Do you  _ think  _ I did?” Miraak replied, equally snappy. “If I  _ had _ I wouldn’t be so angry, you idiot.”

Jenassa narrowed her eyes. “Did you  _ leave  _ her?”

Miraak seemed incredulous. “Did you expect me to  _ watch  _ her? The dragonborn isn’t a child for me to keep an eye on,” he growled. “Though i’m starting to wonder if she  _ is. _ ”

A few cultists shuffled uncomfortably. Jenassa folded her arms and let out a sigh, closing her eyes tightly for a moment. “How do you know she went to join vampire hunters then?”

Miraak sharply pulled a letter out of his robe, snapping it towards her with two fingers. “She at least had enough sense to leave  _ you  _ a note.”

Jenassa seemed mildly surprised, opening one eye at the sound of paper being sharply moved. She reached out and took it, unfolding it to read over what was written. Fort Dawnguard, near Riften huh? Her brow furrowed, before she folded the paper again and handed it back to the nord with a sigh. “Well, at least she gave us a  _ location. _ ”

Miraak grabbed the note back, hastily returning it to his robe before turning away from Jenassa. She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

He strode away to the side of the building scanning the sky before he inhaled. “ _ Dwiin sadon deyto!”  _

The shout echoed, causing the hawks that nested on the top of Casil’s house to shriek and take off from their nest. Miraak turned to look back at Jenassa as silence fell. “I plan to  _ find  _ her, obviously.”

A roar echoed through the sky, before its owner circled around for a place to land. The dusky grey serpentine dragon landed in what had been intended to be a garden at some point, letting out a low rumble.

“ _ Geh, thuri?”  _ Dwiinsadondeyto spoke, eyeing the cultists behind his master. 

Miraak turned and tossed a key at one of his cultists. “Close the house, and return to the task at hand. I will send a message when it is needed,” he ordered, before turning to look at the dragon. “ _ Laat dovahkiin lost vod nau ek gein. _ ” He grabbed one of the beast’s fins, roughly dragging Dwiinsadondeyto’s head lower so he could climb onto his neck.

The dragon grunted in discomfort, but made no complaint. He moved to prepare to take off, but Jenassa rushed over. 

“Don’t think you can leave without me,” Jenassa shouted. The dragon eyed her, letting out a long snort.

“I planned to,” Miraak replied boredly. 

“She’s my patron. I don’t plan on letting her run into things head first on her own.”

The dragon tilted his head slightly, awaiting an order from Miraak to either leave or let the woman on. With a grunt, Miraak motioned for Jenassa to join him. Dwiinsadondeyto lowered his neck again so Jenassa could clamber onto the beast, taking her seat behind Miraak. She didn’t like Miraak or riding dragons, but if she let the damn nord go on her own she would be at least a day behind him by horse. 

“Take care of my horse,” she shouted to the cultists as the dragon spread his wings. 

One of the cultists looked at her skeptically (albeit she couldn’t tell), before reluctantly moving to grab her horse as the others shuffled to leave.

With that, Dwiinsadondeyto took to the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **"Mu kriin Lien-Naak rek vonuz krif soslun voth nid zeymahzin. Mey. Mey kiir"** \--We slay the world eater and she disappears to fight blooddrainers with no companions. Fool. Foolish girl.
> 
> \--> **“Laat dovahkiin lost vod nau ek gein.”** \--The last dragonborn has gone on her own.


	52. LII. Send Me On My Way

Casil pulled her robe closer. The cold was really starting to set in, even though fall had only just started. On the plus side, the southeast corner of Skyrim looked exceptionally beautiful this time of year in her opinion. The orange and yellow leaves fell in heaps like rain, daintily falling from their branches. On the downside, it did make the path quite hard to see at times.

Casil wasn’t quite sure  _ exactly  _ where she was supposed to be looking. She would have thought a fort would have been easy to find, but apparently they had hidden it well… which was probably for the better.

Her horse, Maehaur, gave a snort. Casil pat him on the neck as they walked down the road. Old fort near Riften. That wasn’t exactly…  _ descriptive,  _ she was realizing. She felt rather stupid for not asking for a more precise location, or for not asking a guard at the last town. 

It was weirdly  _ calm.  _ She couldn’t help but constantly check over her shoulder or scan the skies still, but things had certainly slowed down since Alduin’s defeat a mere two weeks prior. Two weeks. Was that all? Or had it been more? Casil shrugged to herself idly, scanning the cliff walls ahead of her. Obviously her location of interest wasn’t out in the open, so she was starting to guess it was somewhere in the more mountainous region of the area. Now it was just the matter of finding some sort of a path Maehaur could walk on. She didn’t fancy leaving her loyal horse behind in the middle of nowhere, not far from  _ Riften  _ of all places. The confirmation that the Thieves Guild not only existed but had its main hub there made the woman a little more cautious. 

A few hours of searching did finally turn up what she presumed she’d been looking for. A crack in the cliff that lead into what Casil initially figured was a cave, but walking at the right angle made her realize that it was simply a tunnel that lead through the cliff. She turned and steered her horse through, ducking a few times to avoid hitting her head against rocks until they emerged on the other side. A valley, and a winding path that lead through the canyon. This seemed like the right way to head. Casil let out a sigh of relief, relaxing back as Maehaur continued his steady pace down the path. The path was narrow, maybe wide enough for two horses to just squeeze through if you were lucky. Her eyes scanned the rim of the cliff. And a good choke point. She felt a little uneasy. It wouldn’t be hard to ambush someone there, and she cursed herself for not bringing a skeleton or two along. 

Casil was relieved to see the pathway open up a little. Waterfalls crashed down ahead of her, rolling out of glacier locked rivers that slowly etched their way through the top of the canyon. The path really began to slope upwards, and from her place on Maehaur’s tall back she thought she could make out the top of a man-made structure somewhere ahead. 

To Casil’s surprise, someone was a little ways ahead of her, looking much more uneasy. He was hardly walking, and seemed to be inclined to just pace a little by one of the large lakes that pooled up at the base of two waterfalls. She cocked her head to the side, before nudging Maehaur to go faster. The sound of hooves against the stone path made the boy look back in surprise, and he stepped off to the side uneasily as the woman approached. 

Casil raised a hand in greetings and to show she meant no harm. He was a ratty looking farm boy, a typical blond-haired nord in simple farmer’s garb. His only weapon that Casil could see was a simple iron axe strapped to his side, and he had absolutely no armor to speak of beyond a pair of studded hide bracers. Casil raised an eyebrow at him, slowing her horse once she was closer.

“O-oh, hey there! You here to join the Dawnguard?” He asked with a nervous laugh.

Casil nodded her head in response, head still tilted to the side in curiosity.

Her silence didn’t help him feel any less uneasy about her or the whole ordeal. “Truth is, i’m a little nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I uh… hope you don’t mind if I walk up with you?”

Casil wasn’t sure why that surprised her, but it did. Casil glanced up at the path ahead of them. They weren’t too far she figured; she could see the clear cut top of a fort some ways up the path, and even with a lot of winding she couldn’t imagine it was going to take too long to get there. Why not?

Casil shrugged, before motioning for him to follow. She made sure her horse slowed his pace so the man could keep up with him, albeit the beast wasn’t exactly fast to begin with. 

The man shifted, looking Casil over uneasily. While she didn’t seemed armed, her eyes and demeanor were making him nervous. If anything Casil was making him  _ more  _ anxious. “Hey, uh, don’t tell Isran I was afraid to meet him by myself. Not the best first impression for a new vampire hunter, I guess,” he said, trying to break the silence.

Casil didn’t look down at him and simply nodded.

He swallowed. “M-my name is Agmaer. Not one for talking, huh?”

Casil glanced down at him, before reaching into her bag. He made a motion to flinch back until he saw her bring out a pad of paper. Very carefully Casil tried to write a reply while her horse moved, before holding it out for him.

Agmaer took it, looking over the scribbly charcoal writing.

‘My name is Casil. I’m mute.’

His face turned red as a radish, and he peevishly handed back the notepad. “S-sorry about that.”

Casil shrugged. She was used to it, to say the least. The nord seemed to relax a bit at that knowledge though. She wasn’t just ignoring him or being a creep. “I’ve heard what’s going on. The vampires, the Dawnguard, all of it. I wanted to help, so here I am. What about you?”

‘Requested to come.’

He looked surprised at that. “You must have killed a lot of vampires then, huh? I’m sure Isran will sign you right up. Not sure he’ll take me though… I hope so.” He frowned a bit at.

Casil waved a hand at him. No need to worry, though she wasn’t sure what a farm boy could do against a vampire. Kid would probably need a ton of training to even vaguely last against one, but of course she didn’t bring that up.

As she thought, the path did not go for too much further. The canyon flattened out a little, opening up into a more open area. A small camp had been set up on the outside of a wood wall. The fort towered overhead, casting a shadow across the path.

Agmaer paused, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked up at Fort Dawnguard. “That must be Fort Dawnguard… Wow. Bigger than I had expected,” he commented. 

Casil nodded in agreement. She wasn’t expecting a  _ huge  _ fort. She was expecting one of those small forts used to watch roads or something. Casil moved Maehaur towards the open gate.

The nord spoke her thought as they reached the wood gateway. “Where is everybody? This place looks almost deserted.” 

Casil pursed her lips. It really was. Nobody seemed to be patrolling the walls or even keeping an eye on the outer gate, and the camp itself was largely empty. Casil dismounted her horse, moving to tie him up at the outside camp before she and Agmaer made the last trip to the entry of the fort itself.

At least a guard stood out there. A Breton man leaned against the wall, but didn’t seem concerned that the two approached. He motioned for them to go inside. “Here to join the Dawnguard? Go on inside. Isran will want to talk to you,” he said simply.

Agmaer turned to look at Casil. “I guess this is it. Wish me luck,” he said, before moving to hurry inside.

A roar echoed through the air, and the nord halted before he could reach the doorknob. 

Casil looked at the sky in surprise. A dragon…?

The beast approached rapidly on the horizon, and Casil stiffened. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” the guard grumbled, pushing himself off the wall cautiously. He pulled a crossbow off his back, watching as the dragon continued to approach. Casil backed up, trying to take cover behind a post in case it was looking for  _ her.  _

The dragon was making a swift beeline towards the fort. Casil squinted at it. It wasn’t Odahviing or Sosvahzenmiin, who were the only two dragons she trusted  _ not  _ to torch her to a crisp on sight besides Paarthurnax… who she doubted she’d ever see away from the Throat of the World. 

The guard looked to Agmaer, who was pale as a sheet. “Boy, go inside and get Isran,” he hissed, preparing a bolt. The boy nodded and shoved the door open, but Casil motioned for him to stop.

There were people on the back of that dragon. And there was only one person she knew who could get a dragon to allow them to do that.

The Breton gave her a credulous look. “What-”

Casil wrote ‘friend’ on her notepad, with huge quotation marks around it before she swiftly smudged the writing away. 

“ _ Friend?  _ Are you crazy?” 

Casil ignored him, hands on her hips as the dragon got closer. The gold glint on the dragon’s back confirmed her suspicions. Casil’s face became humorously unimpressed. Oh, so  _ now  _ he shows up. Who was that behind him…?

“ _ Dovahkiin!”  _ The dragon roared.

The Breton and Agmaer looked at Casil in mild shock.

“Wait,  _ you  _ are the dragonborn!?” Agmaer exclaimed.

Casil just nodded with a tired look as the dragon circled, before landing on a heap of rocks near the entry. She shielded her eyes from the dust that kicked up with her arm, before folding her arms across her chest. Miraak hopped off the back of the dragon, strutting towards her with his hands balled into fists at his side. Casil raised an eyebrow, almost going to frown until she saw who was behind him.

“There you are, sera,” Jenassa said with a sigh of relief, awkwardly trying to climb down from the dragon. The beast grunted in irritation as she pulled on his fins.

Casil moved to greet Jenassa and ignore Miraak, but the large man didn’t let her just brush past him. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, towering over her.

“What are you  _ thinking? _ ” he hissed.

Casil gave him a apathetic glance. ‘Joining the Dawnguard.” She reached up to try to pry his hand off her shoulder, but he did not loosen his grip.

“ _ Alone? _ ”

Casil raised an eyebrow. ‘Why do you care?’

She could tell he was livid, even with his mask. “You foolish, stupid little dragonborn-”

Jenassa awkwardly tried to shove herself between the two, clearing her throat before making a subtle motion at the two watching them.

Miraak didn’t particularly care, but it gave Casil the chance to wriggle out of his grasp and head back towards the Fort.

‘Good to see you back,’ she calmly signed to Jenassa, fighting the urge to slap Miraak. ‘How was your trip?’

Janessa quite gladly accepted Casil’s awkward change of subject, sliding away from the furious nord as quickly as she could. “Pleasant. I hope things have not been too difficult since I left,” she replied, making a face once she had her back to Miraak.

“ _ Laat dovahkiin grik krah orin hin yol nis ag niin. Enook sul drun vomindok onikaan kun _ _ ,” _ Dwiinsadondeyto mused idly, swishing his tail as he awaited a order from his overlord.

Miraak shot him a glare from behind his mask as Casil and Jenassa walked into the fort, followed by a baffled and mildly terrified Agmaer. “ _ Nahlot hin jot, uv zu’u fen dreh ful fah hi. Bo _ _ ,”  _ he snapped with a angry wave of his hand.

Dwiinssadondeyto chuckled, spreading his wings out. “ _ Rot do prodah, thuri. Grik krah fen diin hi med nus fen hin yol evenaar _ _ , _ ” the beast taunted, taking to the air.

Miraak spun and nailed the dragon in the face with a fireball before he could get far, and though it hurt immensely the dragon couldn’t help but chuckle through the pain as he flew away. Miraak was getting tired of the dragon’s sass towards him. Clearly the beasts were somewhat skeptical about his leadership, and he made a mental note to remind them  _ why  _ they should keep their maws shut when he had the chance.

The priest turned and stormed towards the fort, ignoring the breton’s confused and concerned stare.

The entry room of the fort was a massive circular room that was devoid of any decoration. A few boxes and crates were stacked against the walls, but beyond that there was little to look at. There was a railing that circled higher up, notifying a second story that could overlook the room. Jenassa, Casil and Agaem loitered towards the edge, and at the center two men stood in the heat of a conversation. One was clearly a Vigilant, while the other wore a similar armor to the guard.

“Why are you here, Tolan?” the darker skinned man growled, arms folded tightly across his chest. “The Vigilants and I were finished long ago.”

Miraak silently moved to stand behind Casil, ominously looming behind her as a reminder that he was not done with his conversation with her.

Casil ignored him, focused on what was going on ahead of her.

“You know why i’m here, the Vigilants are under attack everywhere. The vampires are much more dangerous than we believed,” the other man smoke, a sort of plea in his voice.

“And now you want to come running to the safety with the Dawnguard, is that it?” The other man’s voice hardly changed fluctuation, but it was irritated and a little snappy. “I remember Keeper Carcette telling me repeatedly that Dawnguard is a crumbling ruin, not worth the expense and manpower to repair. And now that you’ve stirred up the vampires against you, you come begging for my protection?”

The Vigilant stiffened. “Isran, Carcette is  _ dead, _ ” the man said, trying to hide the wavering in his voice. “The Hall of Vigilants… everyone… they’re all  _ dead.  _ You were right, we were wrong. Isn’t that enough for you?”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the room. Casil shifted, glancing to Jenassa for a moment. Miraak leaned over Casil’s shoulder, mask inches from her ear.

“ _Dreh hi mindoraan tharovin losei aav nu? Daar hi togaat dreh gein?”_ He hissed lowly. Casil didn’t look back at him, but he could see her lips purse tightly. She doubtably understood most of what he said, but it seemed that she understood the gist.

Isran finally spoke again. “Yes, well… I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried to warn all of you… I am sorry, you know.”

Tolan gritted his teeth, but said nothing more.

Isran turned his attention to the four that loitered at the edge of the room. “So, who are you, and what do you want?”

“ _ We  _ were  _ leaving,”  _ Miraak said lowly, reaching out to grab Casil.

The woman anticipated it, and she idly danced out of the way of his grasp. 

‘I was told you were looking for me, to join the Dawnguard,’ Casil signed.

Jenassa opened her mouth to translate, but to Casil’s relief Isran raised a hand to Jenassa as a sign that he understood.

“So. You must be the dragonborn then,” Isran said, looking over the tiny woman. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped up to her. Suddenly he reached out, grabbing the small woman’s jaw before shoving her lips up with a finger.

Miraak did not hesitate to shoulder check him, causing the vampire hunter to stumble back. Casil shrunk back, moving behind the bigger dragonborn in shock. Why had he…

Miraak moved a hand out to keep Casil behind him, holding his ground as Isran righted himself. The man winced, but straightened himself out.

“Don’t you  _ ever _ touch her,” Miraak hissed.

Isran snorted. “Precautions. For a moment I thought that you might be one of  _ them.”  _

Casil rubbed her jaw, frowning before averting her orange gaze to the ground. She shook her head. Jenassa moved to stand closer to Casil as well.

Isran looked the party over, rubbing his shoulder for a moment before speaking again. “So you must be the  _ other  _ dragonborn I’ve been hearing rumors about,” he mused, eyeing the masked priest. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so  _ protective  _ of your little friend here.”

Casil quickly signed ‘don’t antagonize him’  to the vampire hunter. Miraak was mad enough as it was, and while Casil would  _ love  _ to know what had gotten into him the last thing she wanted or needed was for Miraak to tear this man apart.

Miraak balled a hand into a fist, causing his gloves to rub against itself with a squeak. His other hand moved towards the sword at his hip, but Casil reached out to stop him. She moved in front of him this time, giving Miraak a nervous shake of her head before turning back to Isran.

‘I apologize for causing you worry,’ she signed quickly, using her shoulder to try to push Miraak back. He didn’t budge. 

Isran laughed. “No, I shouldn’t have acted so rashly. My apologies, dragonborn, though I am relieved to see you aren’t a vampire yourself.” He held his arms out to the side. “Welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I’m afraid it isn’t as grand as it used to be. Much of our efforts have been focused on getting it back into shape.”

Well, it certainly  _ needed  _  to get repaired. Casil shifted, hoping to get the basics sorted out before Miraak flipped his shit.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ she wasn’t going to say ‘we’ out of fear Miraak might get mad. All in all, she was just generally worried Miraak was going to get  _ pissed  _ at her, or moreso then he already was. 

“I need someone out in the field, taking the fight to the damn vampires while we’re getting the for back in shape,” Isran stated, before turning to Tolan. “Tolan, tell her about… what was it, Dimhollow?”

The Vigilant gritted his teeth, eyeing Casil as the woman turned to him. “Yes, that’s it. Dimhollow Crypt. Brother Adlvald was sure it held some long-lost vampire artifact of some kind. We didn’t listen to him any more than we did Isran. He was at the hall when it was attacked…” Tolan trailed off.

“That’s good enough for me,” Isran inputted. “Go see what the vampires were looking for in this Dimhollow Crypt. With any lucky, they’ll still be there.”

Casil nodded, shifting. ‘We’ll leave in the morning then. It’s been long traveling for me,’ she signed, hoping to get a chance to speak to Miraak.

Tolan nodded. “I’ll meet you at Dimhollow. It’s the least I can do to avenge my fallen comrades,” he said gravely.

Isran furrowed his brow. “Tolan, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You Vigilants were never trained for-”

“I know what you think of us,” Tolan said, cutting the other man off. “You think we’re soft, that we’re cowards. You think our death…”

Casil wasn’t going to hang around and hear it. She made a wave of her hand to signify that she had heard what was needed and was going to leave for the moment. 

Isran turned his attention to Casil again. “You’re free to set up base in here if you please,” he stated before dismissing Tolan, who left with a grunt. Casil nodded to him, before shuffling down one of the fort’s halls.

She heard Isran turn his attention to Agaem, who she had entirely forgotten about, before heading off to find a corner to make camp in. The fort was big and had quite a bit set up already, but Casil managed to find a wing that was still out of use to call dibs on for the time being.

Miraak grabbed her by the back of her shawl, sharply pulling her back before he pinned her up against the wall. “ _ Hi mey kiir.  _ Running off on your own. Do you know how much  _ danger  _ you’re about to walk into?” he hissed, gripping the collar of her robe and shawl as he held her up.

Casil pursed her lips, gripping his wrist.

“Miraak, that’s enough,” Jenassa snapped, stepping forward to try to pull the man away. He shoved her back. 

“Stay out of this,” he growled, turning his attention back to Casil.

Casil inhaled slowly. ‘I didn’t think you cared.’

Miraak’s grip tightened, but he made no other movement. “Don’t test me. I don’t plan on watching you charging into danger and getting yourself killed like some foolish farm hand,” he said lowly.

‘I’ve dealt with vampires before. I’ve slain dragons. I killed  _ Alduin,’  _ she replied, head held high. 

“No without my help,” he snapped. 

Casil tilted her head back, examining the golden mask. Conveniently hiding whatever expression he might hold right now, she thought. ‘So you walk out on me and then get mad at me for having my own life?’ Before Miraak could reply, she managed to get him to let go. The woman pulled away, straightening out her clothing. ‘You could have gone your own way. Don’t come getting mad at me because i’m going mine,’ she signed, before turning to grab her things from Maehaur.

Miraak, to her surprise, did not stop her. The man watched her walk away, straightening his back. Jenassa looked him over, before following Casil to help her.

 

Why  _ had  _ he come rushing to find her?

The first dragonborn leaned against the battlements, hands folded as he surveyed the valley below from the top of Fort Dawnguard. 

He had passed by her homestead to grab a few things he had left, and he found she had taken off to do something  _ stupid  _ without Jenassa or himself. But why did that  _ bother  _ him? What did he care about Casil?

The man rubbed his face, exhaling a cloud of hot air that rolled away in the cold night air. No, he didn’t  _ care  _ about Casil per say. But he did not want her running off to do stupid things. She was a prize, perhaps, and the only other one to represent what he was. A dragonborn. Woman would sully the name if she acted like she did, which left a bad taste in his mouth. Surely, that was what it was. His trophy was not allowed to run off and get herself destroyed, to be pushed around and manhandled by people like Isran. 

The sudden movement the man had made on Casil had… upset him. He did not know why, beyond the fact that Isran had suddenly laid his hands on  _ his  _ dragonborn, under the pretense that she was a vampire. Oh, admittedly there was a time when Miraak had wondered the same, though it had quickly become obvious that she was not one.

Casil insisted to join the Dawnguard, and if that’s how she wanted to act then so be it. He would keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t get herself killed in the process. Maybe it would give him a chance to build up more connections while his cult rebuilt itself. 

He would have to settle on that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--> **“Laat dovahkiin grik krah orin hin yol nis ag niin. Enook sul drun vomindok onikaan kun,”** \-- The Last Dragonborn is so cold even your fire cannot burn them. Each day brings unknown wisdom to light.
> 
> \--> **“Nahlot hin jot, uv zu’u fen dreh ful fah hi. Bo,”** \--Silence your maw, or I will do so for you. Fly.
> 
> \--> **“Rot do prodah, thuri. Grik krah fen diin hi med nus fen hin yol evenaar,”** \--Word of warning, my overlord. Such coldness will freeze you like a statue if your fire is extinguished. 
> 
> \--> **“Dreh hi mindoraan tharovin losei aav nu? Daar hi togaat dreh gein?”** \-- Do you understand the danger you’re joining now? That you attempted to do alone?


	53. LIII. Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead I swear aha; Finals of fall term blasted the creativity out of me. This chapter has been written off and on for like 3 months now bUT. Here it is. Sorry if it's a little jumpy because of that! Hopefully i'll be able to start picking things up again.

The group headed out the next morning on foot. Jenassa shifted her bag on her shoulder, uncomfortable at the tension that had formed between Miraak and Casil. The events of the previous day had been incredibly awkward, and as she had expected it hadn’t worn off. Jenassa traveled between the two of them, less by her choice then it was theirs. Why Miraak had suddenly been so  _ concerned  _ over what Casil was doing and why he actually was sticking around if he had gone off on his own was beyond her. He had made it very clear he was not up for discussing it, since Casil was so insistent on asking. 

The two had hardly spoken to each other by the time they pitched up camp. Jenassa stoked the fire, working on cooking them some food. Miraak on one side, Casil on the other. They wouldn’t look at each other, they wouldn’t talk to each other. It was like they had some lover’s quarrel. Except that they hadn’t, and Jenassa would not even remotely call them ‘lovers’.

Where was Sterlas when you needed him? Jenassa let out an exhale, eyeing the two. Well, the least she could do was talk to Casil.

“Did you actually have a plan going into all of this?” The Dunmer asked, carefully cutting up slices of a potato.

Casil looked up from the fire to her companion, before giving her a shrug. ‘Just something to do I guess. Even with the war happening still, I just…’ she paused, running a hand through her hair for a moment as she thought over her words. ‘I just couldn’t get back into how things used to be, you know?’ She shrugged again, before letting her shoulders slouch as her gaze returned to the fire. The woman rubbed her mouth with a hand, leaning over to rest her head on a hand as she propped her arm up on her knee.

“This isn’t exactly a  _ small  _ commitment you’re making. I thought you had wanted to take a break,” Jenassa mused, scraping the potato cubes into a pot.

Casil nodded her head in reply. ‘I got bored.’

Jenassa couldn’t help but snort. “So you rushed into the most dangerous thing you could find?”

Casil flicked her gaze over to the mercenary. ‘I’ve dealt with vampires before. We killed dragons before Jenassa. I’m not worried,’ she replied.

The dunmer woman pursed her lips. Casil hadn’t exactly done it on her own though, but the dark elf wasn’t sure if she should say anything about that. Miraak had already berated her for it. Jenassa whetted her lips, moving the pot to the fire. “You could have at least waited for me to come back.”

‘I didn’t think you were going to,’ Casil replied, picking up a stick to jab at the fire after Jenassa had got the pot situated.

“Well, I told you I was going to.”

Casil shrugged, before moving to lay back on her bedroll. ‘Neither of you had to come back. I wasn’t expecting either of you to come back.’

Jenassa frowned at that, glancing to Miraak. The man hadn’t removed his mask, and she couldn’t tell if he was paying any attention to what Casil was signing. Her attention returned to the small bosmer. “Why did you think we wouldn’t come back?”

‘Why  _ would  _ you? You both went through hell with me and i’m fully aware i’m not exactly a great friend or a interesting person to converse with,’ she said, scrunching her brow and making a face at the sky. ‘If I were in your shoes I would have ditched me ages ago. You’re a sellsword and he’s a dictator who’s been trapped in Oblivion for gods know how long.’

If Miraak was paying attention, he didn’t say anything to her comment.

Jenassa fumbled with putting some bread on a flat stone next to the fire, cutting it into slices with a knife. “Yes, I am a mercenary. You did hire me to join you initially. But,” she carefully arranged the slices before shoving the rock next to some of the hot coals, “I’ve come back here as your friend, Casil. I  _ care  _ about you. Sterlas did, too. Though I can’t speak for someone over here,” she said, side eyeing Miraak.

The man finally made a response. He grunted, shifting. “Don’t try to paint me as the bad guy,” he growled. 

‘Then why did you come back for me?’ Casil asked him, again. 

“I’m not answering your question,” Miraak replied with irritation. 

Casil shot him a glare. ‘What, too high and mighty to?’

Jenassa regretted bringing the priest into the conversation, because it was immediately turning into a fight between the two dragonborns. She rolled her eyes, waving her knife between the two. “Do we have to do this-”

Miraak and Casil both sharply turned to look at Jenassa, to which both replied with various forms of ‘yes’.

Jenassa raised her hands in defeat and leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. 

Casil sat herself back up, glaring over the fire as she awaited a answer. Miraak just folded his own arms and didn’t reply. Casil inhaled in frustration, before resigning in defeat. She hunched over again, shoving her cheek up with a hand as she propped her head up with a arm again. Her orange eyes locked intensely on the pot, waiting for it to finish cooking so she could eat and go to sleep.

Jenassa silently cursed the werewolf for leaving her with these two.

The next day and night weren’t any less awkward, and Jenassa for one was relieved to reach their destination the following morning.

Dimhallow Crypt’s entry was a small cave opening up in a cliff face, which would have been otherwise nigh impossible to spot if there wasn’t a bridge leading to it… albeit the bridge was hard to spot as well. The stone structure had seen far better days, and while it was safe to walk on parts of it had fallen out over the years.

‘That Vigilant wanted to come with us, didn’t he?’ Casil asked, glancing around as the three made their way carefully across the bridge.

Jenassa nodded. “That’s what he said.”

Casil couldn’t see anything that told her the man had made it.

“If he isn’t here already, that’s his own fault. There’s no use in waiting for him,” Miraak stated, noting what Casil was feeling.

Casil nodded in agreement, for once. Jenassa had half expected the woman to disagree just to pick a fight with the nord. Miraak drew his sword, and Jenassa followed suit. The two armed individuals took to either side of the cave entry, peering in before Miraak carefully made his way into the cave.

The soft sound of chatter echoed down the tunnel as they descended into the cliffside. Miraak slowed, making sure each of his steps were gingerly placed. Casil followed in the back, straining to make out what was being said. There were at least two people, but that was the best Casil could tell over the sound of running water and through the twist and turns of the cave. 

Miraak paused as the tunnel opened up into a cavern. The sound of running water echoed loudly off of the chamber walls, running in a 6-7 foot deep crevasse that split the room into two. Pillars of stone helped to support the ceiling, and from what Casil could see the rough, natural cave wall smoothed into hewn stone in certain places. A handful of torches lit the walls towards the back of the cavern, silhouetting a pair of figures and what looked to Casil like a dog.

Miraak extended a arm to make sure Jenassa and Casil had stopped, looking over the room quickly before pressing back against the wall so they wouldn’t be spotted.

“...Damn Vigilants. They got what they deserved,” mumbled one of the shadows, shifting to kick at a body near his feet. 

“How many more of them could there even be? I thought we’d gotten most of them when we destroyed the Hall,” the other growled.

Vampires, as Casil had expected. She threw a look to Miraak, but the man was already carefully moving into the room. Jenassa and the first dragonborn took up their place behind two of the closer pillars, looking for a good path to the vampires that wouldn’t cause either of them to fall face first into the ditch.

The death hound shifted, chains on his collar clinking. The beast sniffed the air, bearing its rows upon rows of teeth. One of the vampires looked down at the dog. 

“What is it, eh? More Vigilants?” he growled, looking up to the tunnel entry.

Casil shrunk back against the wall. She could hear the clinking of the vampire’s boots as they walked towards the cave entry. She took a deep breath, preparing to attack if needed. But the sound of struggle and a shout of anger from the other vampire told Casil that Jenassa and Miraak had it handled. There was a splash of water as Miraak presumably kicked one of the vampires into the crevasse, followed by a snarl of the death hound that was quickly replaced by a yelp. 

Casil moved out to join her companions, hurling a fireball at the man down in the ravine before joining up beside Miraak and Jenassa.

The nord grunted as he pushed the body the vampire had been standing over with his foot. “Fool,” he grumbled, turning to inspect the bodies and ash piles of a few more vampires and their thralls that had been slain before the trio had entered.

Casil grabbed a torch off the wall and raised it to see who Miraak had nudged. 

“Isran was right. He didn’t stand much of a chance,” Jenassa mused, looking over the bloody corpse of Tolan.

Casil shrugged, crouching down to dig through his pockets. Jenassa snorted and rolled her eyes, grabbing a torch as well before moving to check the room more thoroughly. 

“There’s a gate over here,” Miraak mused, pulling something off of the armor of one of the vampires. “There should be a lever to open it nearby.”

Jenassa nodded, moving to part of the wall that was smoother than the rest. “I think it might be back here,” she said, torch raised. “The wall is carved out as well.”

Casil moved to shift through one of the vampire’s thralls, waiting for Jenassa to figure it out. She only glanced up when the gate finally screeched open. Straightening herself out, she made her way over to where Miraak stood before shoving a handful of miscellaneous goods into his. The dragonborn jerked back in surprise.

“What-”

‘Sterlas is dead, so you get to carry my stuff,’ she signed, moving to make her way down the stairs.

Miraak grabbed her with a hand. “I am  _ not  _ your pack animal,” he hissed, spinning Casil around before shoving the belongings back into her hands. He swatted the side of her head, causing Casil to wince. “And you are  _ not  _ going first.” He pulled her behind him, before heading down the stairs himself.

Casil puffed her cheeks up, turning to look at Jenassa as she reached the gate. Jenassa raised an eyebrow, to which Casil replied by shoving the items into her hands. ‘Miraak won’t carry them.’

Jenassa rolled her eyes and sighed, placing them in her bag. “I don’t know what you were expecting,” she commented, moving past Casil to follow Miraak. The bosmer followed up at the back again.

Casil was not expecting so many vampires, which was a comment she immediately regretted making.

“Do you see what you almost walked into on your own?” Miraak lectured as the moved further into the ruins. “You wouldn’t have made it past the first room on your own.”

‘I would have been fine. I just. Probably would have turned around after awhile,’ she signed back defiantely before folding her arms across her chest.

“You’re lucky none of us have been cut yet.”

Casil tried to ignore him, gritting her teeth. Why had she mentioned anything? Maybe when they got out, she could shrug him off again and just do things alone-

The cavern system opened up again into an even larger cavern. The number of large caverns that lay under Skyrim would not cease to amaze Casil, even though none of them could compare to Blackreach now.

The old ruins they had been traveling in took a twist and turn down into the cavern, before a bridge closed the gap between the section they stood on now and a huge circular ruin that precariously stood in the middle of a very dark and seemingly bottomless pit. Gargoyles lined the walls and stairways, ominously looming in the darkness.

Down the stairway on a platform near the bridge were a handful of vampires, death hounds, and a single Vigilant.

The party crouched down quickly, moving to duck down behind some of the ruins so they weren’t in the open at the top of the stairs. 

“What is this place?” Jenassa whispered, carefully peering out from behind the chunk of stone they crouched behind.

Casil gave a shrug. ‘I wasn’t actually expecting to find anything down here, honestly. This doesn’t look like it’s Nordic either.’ She looked to Miraak expectantly.

The old man grunted. “I have no knowledge of what this is either. It has no connection with the Dragon Cult.”

It certainly looked old though. Casil scratched her chin, surveying the people down below.

One of the vampires kicked the Vigilant over, shoving the man to the cold stone ground with a boot. The Vigilant winced in pain as the vampire dug the heel into his chest, leaning over to survey the writing mortal below him. “How do you open it?” The vampire spat.

The Vigilant remained silent, letting out a slight hiss of pain as the vampire dug his heel into his chest deeper.

The vampire kicked the man in the face, stepping to pace around him. “Tell me!” he snarled.

Jenassa glanced to Casil to see if she would make a move, but unsurprisingly the bosmer remained silent and unmoving. 

“Never,” the Vigilant managed to spit in return, wheezing in pain. The vampire gritted his teeth, glowing eyes looking over the Vigilant before he drew his sword and lopped the man’s head off without any hesitation.

“Useless... “ the vampire grunted, turning to face the ruins as he wiped his sword off on the thrall that stood next to him.

Casil nodded to her companions, before standing up. A fireball burned brightly in her hand, and once Miraak and Jenassa had gotten a few feet down the stairs Casil lobbed the magic at the vampire. It nailed him in the back of the head, causing him to stumble forward in surprise.

Miraak did not waste time in making short work of the fight.

“ _ Fus ro dah!”  _

The force wave sent the death hounds and the thrall over the edge with ease, and the vampire was very, very close to following them. The undead managed to grab the edge of the ledge before plummeting off it as well, scrambling with sharp nails to get a better hold. Miraak made his way over to the vampire, crouching down as the creature tried to pull himself back up. The undead’s glowing eyes locked on Miraak’s mask, and he let out a hiss.

“What is this place?” Miraak asked coolly, turning his sword idly in his fingers.

The vampire’s gaze darted to Casil and Jenassa, before back to Miraak. “What makes you think I’d tell you?” The vampire snapped.

Miraak let out a hum, before slamming the sword down onto three of the vampire’s fingers. The vampire howled in pain, hand slipping. He scrambled to try to stay on, hardly holding on with the one good hand. “What is this place?” Miraak asked again.

“Fuck you,” the vampire hissed.

Miraak brought the sword down onto the vampire’s head, sinking it down into his skull before dislodging it and kicking the body off into the pit.

Casil stood next to him, looking down into the abyss that stretched below. ‘You must have been fun back in the day,’ she signed to him, eyebrows raised before turning to the bridge.

Miraak narrowed his eyes under his mask, but moved to follow behind Casil. He gripped the back of her shawl and stopped her before she could cross the bridge, looming over her.

“If you’d like, you can join him,” Miraak hissed into her ear.

Casil glanced back at him. ‘If you hadn’t come groveling back to me the second I put myself in danger I might have believed you,’ she replied, trying to pry Miraak’s gloved hand off of her shawl.

Instead, Miraak dragged the woman over to the edge of the ledge, shoving her over it. Casil inhaled sharply and reached back to try to grab ahold of Miraak, feet just hardly touching the ground while the rest of her hung over the abyss.

Miraak pointed his sword at Jenassa as the dark elf bolted towards him. “This is between me, and her,” he replied calmly. 

Jenassa gripped the hilt of her sword, teeth gritting. “Let go of her, Miraak,” she growled.

Miraak jerked Casil back so he could shift his grip on her, moving to grab the front of her shawl before dangling her over the hole again. She grabbed his wrist this time, biting her lip hard as the man turned his attention back to her. Miraak leaned forward slightly, drawing Casil a bit closer. “Don’t try my patience, dragonborn,” he said lowly. “My  _ kindness  _ has its limits, and if you want to keep toeing it then I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Casil inhaled slowly, shifting her grip on his wrist. ‘Why did you come back then?’

Miraak was silent. He jerked her back, tossing her aside before he moved to cross the bridge with no response.

Casil winced as she bit the stone hard, taking a moment to regain her courage as Jenassa rushed over.

“Are you alright, sera?” She asked, crouching next to the small bosmer. Casil nodded, fixing her shawl as she looked over at the first dragonborn. Jenassa followed her gaze, letting out a frustrated sigh. She looked back to Casil, opening her mouth to speak.

Casil shook her head, waving a hand to motion for Jenassa to stop. She didn’t want to be berated right now, even if Jenassa was just concerned. The woman pushed herself to her feet, brushing the dirt and dust off of her robes before she followed quietly after Miraak.

The dunmer’s mouth pulled back into an uneasy frown. She was going to need to talk to Casil about this… preferably when Miraak wasn’t around. If he  _ ever  _ was going to leave her alone again. 

But now was not the time to think about that, as pending of a problem as it was. Jenassa followed after Casil and Miraak across the bridge, uneasily looking at the series of archways before them. Miraak examined the entry to the giant circular ruin for a moment, before stepping into it. Casil followed, not noting anything obviously magical or dangerous like she had expected.

The floor was a series of circles and pathways carved into it, with a inner selection of archways that matched the larger ones that circled the edge of the platform. A handful of strange pedestals littered the outer circles, followed by a pedestal in the middle. Casil moved to examine the outer pedestals, and Miraak did the same with the center one. Jenassa left the examination to the two mages, moving to the opposite side of the ruins to guard the other entry. Nobody seemed like they were obviously lurking up there, but it didn’t make her feel any safer. She didn’t like vampires.

The pedestals were fairly uninteresting, as far as ruins and pedestals went. Simple, and adorn with only basic carvings around the edges.The top dipped into a silver basin, which had a handle on either side of it. Casil frowned slightly, looking the basin over carefully. It didn’t look like it drained into anything, nor was there any obvious residue on the inside of the bowl that might help her understand what was supposed to go  _ in  _ it, if anything. Casil pursed her lips, before reaching a hand up and touching it. The pedestal was cold, but nothing else happened or was worth noting. Her frown grew. She drummed her fingers against the metallic rim, before pushing it. 

The pedestal slowly slid forward with a loud scraping noise, sliding forward on its track to the intersection of the next ring. Miraak and Jenassa glanced at her in surprise at the sudden noise.

“The pedestals move?” Jenassa asked, eyeing the one nearest to her.

Casil nodded, wiggling her fingers for a moment before trying to move the pedestal on the ring track. It didn’t seem to want to budge. So they could only move towards the center, or away. Casil pushed it forward again, sliding it into the intersection of the next ring. Still, nothing. Miraak was about to resume his own investigation when Casil pushed the pedestal to the innermost ring. Suddenly, purple-blue flames ignited out of the basin at the center, and the same trailed along some of the track before abruptly stopping. Casil jumped back, hands out in defense as she watched the ghostly fire flicker before her. 

Jenassa gripped the hilt of her sword, uneasy. “Be careful, Casil…” 

Miraak looked the flames over for a moment, before passing his hand through them. Casil went to flinch, but to her surprise it didn’t seem to do any damage to the man’s gloves. Casil quickly put her hand over it as well, drawing her hand back just as quickly. Nothing. Like it wasn’t even there. The slight tingle of magicka, but it wasn’t actually  _ fire.  _

“...Interesting,” Miraak mused, waving his hand over it a few times before turning back to the middlemost pedestal. “Move the others.”

Casil threw Miraak a somewhat weary glance, but she was too interested to find out what this was to go against what he asked. She and Jenassa moved to shift the other pillars, sliding them back and forth until they clicked into place and purple magic emanated from them. Casil quickly pulled out her journal, jotting down a basic map of the place as well as the location of each pedestal just in case.

Miraak shifted away from the middle pedestal before the last one was shifted into place with a loud clunk.The fire connected in a strange pattern upon the floor, and lit the innermost ring in a violet blaze. Casil held her breath, waiting in anticipation for something to happen.

But nothing happened. Casil paused, before moving towards the middle basin. She examined it, peering into the bowl at the center. Ah, but this one  _ did  _ have a drain. Casil shuffled for a knife on her belt. She had a hunch. They were in some sort of vampire important ruin, right?

“Casil, what are you-”

Casil ignored Jenassa, and carefully cut her hand. She winced, wondering how many more times she was going to have to do this in her journey. She squeezed blood into the basin, closing her eyes tightly until the stone suddenly began to shift. Casil jumped back slightly as the middle pedestal turned, before rising up in a spiral.

And, rather suddenly and unexpectedly, a woman fell out and into Casil’s barely ready arms.


	54. LIV. The Draw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel weird having such relatively short chapters per length of fic. Should have condensed them more. Oh well.  
> Anyways, trying out hover translations for dovahzul? But will always include bottom translations. (Esp for you mobile folks since I know I can't get hover text to show up for shit on my phone.)

Casil flinched, holding her arms out as a body fell out of the pedestal and into her. The fact that the woman in her arms _moved_ a fraction of the second later was alarming, and if Casil could she probably would have screamed in surprise. Miraak jerked forward, but before he could grab the mysterious woman she had pushed herself of Casil and had backed into the structure she had fallen out of.

Bright orange eyes looked between Jenassa, Casil, and Miraak wind bewilderment for a moment. Either party froze in silence, waiting for the other to make the first move. Casil looked the woman over. Black hair, pulled back. Pale skin. A aristocratic maroon dress, and… Casil’s eyes landed on what was strapped to the woman’s back. A _Elder Scroll?_ Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but the other suddenly reached out and put her hands on her shoulders.

“Who sent you?”

Casil flinched back, causing the woman to let go of her. Miraak took a stride forward, but Casil caught him with a outstretched arm before he attacked the dazed woman. She gave him a pleading look, as much as it angered her to do so, before looking back to the stranger.

Before she could raise her hands to reply, the woman spoke again. “It was my father, wasn’t it?” she asked, suddenly almost _beaming._ “I… I haven’t seen anyone like me in so long-”

Miraak suddenly reached out and grabbed Casil by the shoulder, giving her a rough yank to pull her away from the other woman. Casil winced, turning to give the nord a glare.

“She is not like _you,_ vampire,” he hissed.

The woman looked surprised at Miraak’s sudden intervention, furrowing her brows before glancing back to Casil with some slight confusion.

For once, Casil willingly slinked behind the larger man under the vampire’s confused, almost disappointed stare.

“I… I’m sorry I misjudged that then,” the vampire said, shifting her weight to another foot as she glanced around. “Then why _are_ you here?”

Casil signed her answer to Jenassa, hoping Miraak wouldn’t turn around and answer for her, or answer first.

“Isran sent us. After the other vampires,” Jenassa said, hand tight on her sword as she wearily eyed the stranger.

The woman furrowed her brow. “I… I don’t know that name,” she said, frowning. Obviously, they doubtedly were a vampire either based on how this party acted.

Casil asked another question to Jenassa, moving to keep a grip on Miraak while he let Jenassa talk. For that, she was grateful, but the man was still tense and clearly ready to attack.

“Who are you, and what were you doing in here?” Jenassa asked after glancing to Casil.

The woman shifted so she could see around Miraak’s larger form to catch a glimpse of Casil, who just looked more _guilty_ than anything. She seemed confused as to why Jenassa was asking the questions like this, but she answered none th eless. “My name is Serana. And… it’s… complicated, why i’m here. And since i’ve only _just_ met you, i’m not sure I can trust you enough to tell you,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

Miraak grunted, but before he could make a snarky or rude reply Casil tugged on his robes before stepping in front of him.

‘I suppose that’s fair,’ Casil signed, glancing to Jenassa.

“We can’t blame you for that, since we’ve only just met,” Jenassa added simply, trying to relax.

Serana shrugged. “If you want to know the whole story, you can help me get home.”

Casil raised a brow, tilting her head to the side.

“My family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would still guess they do,” she explained. “I would appreciate it if you could help me get there. It’s… been a long time since i’ve been out there, i’m sure.”

Casil glanced to Miraak. That was a feeling she was sure the nord could relate to. But Miraak did not seem to share the sentiments.

He grabbed Casil by the wrist, dragging her to the side as he moved to step away from Serana. “I’m sure you can find it on your own, _soslun,_ ” he hissed, the sound reverberating in his mask. He turned his head to Casil, glaring at her. “And we are _done_ with this little game, [hi mey kiir ](-)_._ ”

Casil winced and tried to pull back.

Jenassa threw Serana an almost apologetic look, before she tried to separate the two dragonborn. “That’s enough. We can’t just leave her here,” she said, dropping her voice a bit.

“Yes, we _can._ But if you would like to escort her back to the rest of her blood-drinking kin, _be my guest,_ ” he growled, punctuating the last few words sharply as he towered over the dunmer.

Casil managed to wiggle out of the man’s grip, scowling at him. ‘We’re escorting her back. And if _you_ don’t want to come, then don’t. But this is _my_ choice and if you don’t like it, you can go back off to running away or whatever you were doing,’ she signed furiously. She turned to look at Serana before Miraak could bark a reply, reaching out to take the woman’s hand before pulling her to follow them towards what she could only assume was the exit.

Serana furrowed her brow at the first dragonborn, following Casil with some slight hesitation. Miraak watched the two pass him, shoulders rising and falling with bottled up rage. Jenassa waited for the two to safely pass him, glaring at the man before she followed behind the other two women.

“[Hi fen lost dinokhind, dovahkiin. Zu’u vaat, fod hi hind dira grik frin hi fen dir naal haali ](-)_,”_ Miraak hissed under his breath, hands balled up into fists.

Casil understood enough words out of what she could hear to know it wasn’t good. She kept a determined look on her face as she stepped across the bridge that lead to the other side, pulling Serana in tow. The vampire glanced between the three party members, before simply settling her gaze ahead.

“I want to thank you for setting me free,” Serana said once they had reached the other side. Casil finally let go of her hand, making the vampire frown slightly.

The bosmer shook her head, waving a hand in dismissal. ‘Hopefully we can get you home at least.’

Jenassa peered around the vampire to see what Casil was saying, before repeating it for Serana. The vampire nodded. She hoped so too.

 

Casil was both surprised and surprised that Miraak was not following them when they exited the cave system. Serana hesitated at the exit, sun still up outside. It was slowly sinking behind the horizon, but up nonetheless. Casil waited for her in the cave exit, patient for the woman to prepare to go outside or adjust. Serana gazed at the reflection of the sunlight off of the snow outside, before she gripped a cowl that lay on her shoulders. She pulled it up, covering her head and chest with it  before stepping outside.

The three walked to where their horses had been left. Jenassa had and Miraak had both borrowed horses before they left, since both had ridden a dragon in.

Jenassa looked to Serana as she untied her horse from a tree. “Is it what you remembered?” She asked, watching as the vampire gazed around at the snow-covered forest.

Casil untied her own horse and Miraak’s, deciding Serana could borrow it and the damned nord could just call one of his stupid dragons if wanted to leave.

Serana nodded a little. “Mostly, yes… Though I suppose the woods usually always look about the same,” she mused.

Jenassa chuckled, mounting her horse. “You’ll have to see the cities then.”

Casil tapped Serana on the shoulder. When she turned, Casil held out the horse’s reins to take. Serana raised a brow. “What about…” She trailed off, realizing that none of them had introduce themselves.

Jenassa quickly realized the same. “Miraak. His name is Miraak. And I apologize for him,” she said with a grunt, turning her horse. “My name is Jenassa, and this is Casil.” She made a motion to the mute.

Casil nodded and climbed onto the back of Maehaur, glancing back to the direction they had come. Still no signed of the other dragonborn.

“You just going to leave him? I mean, I can’t say I can _blame_ you after that but…” Serana asked, climbing onto the horse’s back after a few minutes of hesitation.

“He’ll be fine. Trust me,” Jenassa grumbled, before turning the horse. “Solitude, you said?”

Serana nodded. “Yes. On an island, to the north west of that.”

Casil frowned, trying to think if she’d ever seen anything out there. Though the more she thought about it, the more she realized she never really went that far north west. North east, maybe, but not to that corner. She reached into their bag as Jenassa lead the way to the road, producing her map. She unfolded it, surveying what was on it before riding her horse up next to Serana. The vampire looked over as Casil tapped on a series of small islands that were on the map, head tilted. Serana held out a hand, and Casil handed the map over.

“I think… it _should_ be one of these,” she said, pointing to a small cluster much further than Casil had been expecting. She handed the map back to Casil, who nodded and pulled out a piece of charcoal to circle the location carefully. With that, she folded it back up and returned it to her bag, focusing foreword.

The three road in silence for a little while, before Serana spoke.

“So, why were you out here…? You said someone name Isran sent you, after vampires, but…”

Casil shrugged, glancing to her. To prevent Jenassa from having to constantly turn around, Casil pulled her journal out and charcoal to write her replies. ‘He’s the leader of the new Dawnguard. Wanted to get rid of the vampire menace,’ she wrote. She might as well be truthful now before they were surrounded by a whole vampire horde.

Serana frowned, glancing to some of the bushes sprouting out of the snow on the side of the road. “I see. So you’re a vampire hunter.”

Casil shrugged again. ‘I suppose. It’s… a wind down, I guess, from what I had been doing.’

Serena took a few minutes to read what was written. “A wind down? Murdering vampires?” She snorted. “I can’t imagine what your _previous_ job was then. What other species did you single out to slaughter?”

Casil visibly flinched. Jenassa glanced over her shoulder wearily. Casil this time took a few moments to reply, before simply writing ‘dragons’.

This made Serana blink, before she let out a hearty laugh. “You can’t be serious. Even when I was born, there weren’t any dragons. You can’t expect me to believe you.”

Casil shifted uncomfortably in her saddle, before just motioning to Jenassa and her dragonbone armor.

Jenassa spoke up. “She’s not. She’s the dragonborn. Alduin was slain only a few weeks ago even,” she said somewhat flatly.

Serana continued laughing, though it died down as she glanced between the two and their very serious faces.

“You’re _not_ joking, are you?”

Casil shook her head again with a heavy sigh, looking forward before writing her response. ‘No. Miraak’s the first dragonborn. He… helped us slay Alduin. Wouldn't have been able to do it without him. I had you take his horse because he can just call a dragon to pick him up anyways.’ She paused before writing more. ‘I know this isn’t a good first impression, between vampire hunting and dragon slaying.’

Serana chuckled again. “At least you’re being _honest_ with me about it. I appreciate that,” she said. She looked Casil over for a minute. “I’m… sure you’ve gotten a lot of shit for what we are.”

Casil sighed, before giving one last shrug. Serana looked ahead. “Well… hopefully I can show you that we’re more than that, then.”

Casil raised a brow, but nodded. The silence reinstated itself over the party, which gave everyone much-needed time to think about their company.

 

Night fell, and the party stopped to camp somewhere that would keep them out of the bulk of the incoming rainstorm. The trio huddled under a stone outcropping, fire crackling in a fire pit as they sat around it.

“I’m surprised Miraak hasn’t shown up yet,” Jenassa muttered, peering out into the dark sheets of rain that started only a few feet past where she sat.

‘He’s fine, i’m sure. Just grumping,’ Casil signed.

Jenassa rolled her eyes. “Casil, you can’t let him-”

‘Please don’t patronize me too,’ she signed, before rubbing her temples.

Serana leaned back on the stump she’d brought over to the fire, fiddling with a pine twig. “Why do you keep him around, anyways? Neither of you seem to like him, and I must say he’s… a little _intense_ towards you,” she asked, plucking one of the needles off before tossing it into the fire where it popped.

Jenassa silently thanked Serana for asking one of the many questions she’d been wanting to ask Casil, but simply couldn’t find a way of doing without making the elf angry.

Casil stiffened at the question. She wetted her lips in thought, glancing off to the side like there was something interesting in the neighboring dirt. Jenassa and Serana eagerly anticipated the bosmer’s response. Serana could tell it wasn’t by Jenassa’s choice; the dunmer clearly was tired of stepping between the two, and was sensible enough to recognize when Miraak was stepping out of line… which for the whole of 10 minutes Serana had seen him, had been at least 8 of those minutes.

Casil raised her hands, before just letting them fall back into her lap with her usual noncommittal shrug. She didn’t make eye contact, and just kicked at the dirt with a boot instead.

Serana glanced to Jenassa, before sighing. “I haven’t known you for long, but you seem to nice to have to put up with that,” she said, shrugging herself.

Casil finally glanced at her, before shaking her head in disagreement. She got up from her place, grabbing her bedroll to unroll and climb into.

Jenassa shook her own head, moving to add another log to the fire. Casil didn’t want to continue the conversation, and as usual her sign for that was simply going to sleep. Serana gave her a somewhat concerned look, but Jenassa waved it off. The two waited for awhile until they were sure the small woman had fallen asleep.

“I hope I didn’t step out of line,” Serana spoke, twiriling the now needle-free twig in between slim fingers.

Jenassa shook her head. “No, you didn’t. Casil’s…. Miraak… It’s complicated,” she grunted. She would love to vent to someone about what was going on, but they had only met Serana earlier in the day. And she was a vampire, that they were returning to her family. Their potential enemies. Jenassa decided against saying too much that she didn’t need to.

Serana nodded her head simply. “I gathered as much.”

The two silently exchanged small talk for a few more hours, before Jenassa finally decided Serana could be trusted and turned in for sleep herself. The vampire stayed up, watching the rain fall outside as she idly played with a new twig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> - **Hi mey kiir** \- You foolish girl
> 
> - **Hi fen lost dinokhind, dovahkiin. Zu’u vaat, fod hi hind dira grik frin hi fen dir naal haali** \- You must have a deathwish, dragonborn. I swear, if you wish to die so eagerly you will die by my hands


	55. LV. Sound of Silence

Nahlotfel felt fear and unease rattle through their mottled brown scales. A sea of skeletons, a sea of the corpses of his brethren. Stark white shards and fragments, like twisted sculptures, jutting out of the ash. It had always been ash, Nahlotfel realized. Never snow like he initially thought it might  be. A vast, stretching caldera of the fallen, and black slime, and burn marks. He felt what must have been a shiver work up his spine, causing hie scales to click together slightly. 

In the middle of it all, was Lonivahriin. His oily black scales glisten in the stark light from above, his form curved and towering over the wicked obsidian skeleton of their greatest foe. Gone. Blasted into ash, to be lost with the fragments of many others. Lonivahriin’s black talons dug into the fallen’s skeleton, crushing the ribs like fragile twigs under a downburst. 

His shadow suddenly seemed so much darker than that of what they had just defeated, and it terrified the infinitely younger dragon. Acid leaked from Lonivahriin’s maw, dissolving the bones below his hulking form.

“ _ Nahlotfel…. _ ”

The smaller dragon backed away with a limp, wounds still fresh from the previous battle. What had they let free? Perhaps Lonivahriin had been left there, far below, for a good reason. 

The black dragon chuckled, the sound rumbling like a earthquake.

“[Dreh ni kos mey, Nahlotfel. Hi mindok suleyki… uv dreh hi hind aav zeymahiil?](-) _”_ Lonivahriin stretched a great wing out over the fallen remains of the others, and the dark shadow stretched further to encompass them.

Nahlotfel dared to bare his teeth at Lonivahriin. 

 

[Dreh hi koraav niin ni ol zeymahiil?](-)

 

The ancient dragon narrowed his pitch black eyes, clearly not happy about the lesser’s insubordination. “ [ _ Balaaniil nunon fah aaki. Lost nii ni fah zu’u, hi aal kos nid nuz sahlo, sizaan kopraan do lot sunvaar. Nid, orin nu hi los mulhaan daar. Ni balaan tiidi, suleyki. Mindin pah daar, hi togaat wah  _ gruth _ zu’u. Dreh hi vahzah sahvot daar hi lost mulaag wah grind zu’u? _ _ ”  _ ](-) The monster laughed, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty, silent caldera. “[Zu’u fen vaaz viingiil nol sleniil, vaaz un siliil.](-) ” He spread both of his great wings, horrible teeth bared at Nahlotfel.

 

It was all so vivid. Why was it all so vivid now?

 

Nahlotfel was not fast enough to escape Lonivahriin’s lunge. The beast used his great wings to push himself forward, talons extended like an eagle going in for the kill. The long, razor-sharp claws slammed into Nahlotfel’s side before he could try to flap away, sending the tiny dragon into a cloud of ash. There was the crunch of bones, and the searing pain of talons sinking through his scales. The smaller dragon let out a strangled roar of pain as he hit the ground hard, the other dragon propping himself up with his wings as he contorted his head towards Nahlotfel’s.

“ [ _ Rul hi hind lahney, hi  _ fen  _ thaarn zu’u. Lot gein vod, ol los enook gein wo aal ronit rok. Hi  _ fen  _ qiilaan _ ](-) _ ,”  _ Lonivahriin roared, a ear shattering noise that caused Nahlotfel to shrink into the ash even more. The ancient dragon’s claws locked into Nahlotfel’s side, causing torrents of blood to cascade into the ash as the weaker dragon gave weak squirms to escape the other. Nahlotfel managed to whip his tail around, striking Lonivahriin right below his eye. The monster roared, using his wings to flap back and away from Nahlotfel. 

Nahlotfel weakly pushed himself up with his wings, trying to pull himself away from the other in the few brief seconds of relief. Each movement sent pain streaking through his side where the other’s talons had gouged, and the young dragon wasn’t sure how much he could move without causing himself to bleed to death.

It wouldn’t matter. Lonivahriin was on him again in an instant, using his great horns and head this time to slam Nahlotfel into the side of the caldera. Nahlotfel slumped, sliding down the black rock to the feet of the other dragon. One of Lonivahriin’s talons met his side again, creating a new set of wounds as he shoved the smaller dragon into the ash and dirt below, bearing his full weight onto the other. Ribs crunched more under the other much larger dragon’s weight, causing Nahlotfel to squirm weakly. Lohnivahriin brought his maw inches from Nahlotfel’s, onyx black eyes staring spitefully into Nahlotfel’s.

_ “[Zu’u  fen ofan hi gein… laat… miiraad…](-) _ ” he hissed, acid falling dangerously close to Nahlotfel’s face.

Nahlotfel struggled feebly, each movement causing him to inhale sharply before coughing as he inhaled ash. Lonivahriin did not let up though, waiting expectantly for an answer.

 

[ _ Nid, hi dreh ni koraav niin ol fron. Hi dreh ni koraav  _ Zu’u  _ ol fron. _ ](-)

 

Ragged breaths escaped Nahlotfel’s maw along with a steady stream of blood as he stared up at his rival.

 

[Zu’u zorox folaas stin hi.](-)

 

A deep growl began to emit from Lonivahriin’s throat when Nahlotfel did not make any sort of motion for a reply. Nahlotfel gave a shuddery inhale. A fire kindled in his soul, and then, in his mouth. 

Lonivahriin jerked back and out of the way of a torrent of flame, snarling in pain as the flames licked his already blackened scales. There was a sharp inhale, before he retaliated with his own stream of acid. The two caught each other, before the acid ignited. 

The explosion knocked the two warring dragons to either side of the caldera in a mushroom cloud of ash and bone fragments. As the ash slowly rained back down and obscured everything before him, Nahlotfel struggled to stand. He had to flee while Lonivahriin had been knocked away and couldn’t see him as well. The dragon managed to right himself, limping in the direction they had come initially. 

 

_ Laas Yah Nir. _

 

Of course. How could he be so foolish? Nahlotfel could hear the crunching of bones under Lonivahriin as he approached, clearly taking his sweet time to make his final pounce on the scared dragon. Nahlotfel tried to limp away anyways, wheezing and wincing at every step, every movement. 

 

“[Wah mindol, daar zu’u sizaan tiid naal spaan hi…](-) _ ” _

Nahlotfel felt the caldera began to slope downwards. He struggled to get his footing, trying not to just slide out of control. Lonivahriin made sure he did not get far though. The larger dragon bit down on Nahlotfel’s tail, dragging him back into the caldera before using his strength to slam the other against the wall again. Nahlotfel made a sort of grunt in pain, but did not have much time to register what was happening before Lonivahriin’s horns found his chest and gut. The black dragon rammed his head repeatedly into his rival, goring the small dragon over and over. Each time he hit, Nahlotfel was slammed back against the stone, and made it a few feet down before being hit up again. 

“[Nikod!](-) _ ” _

His horns met Nahlotfel’s chest again, creating another deep gash for blood to empty out of.

“[Krosis!](-) _ ” _

His teeth locked on Nahlotfel’s neck, their sharp, serrated edges cutting in before he slammed the dragon against the walls a few more times.

“[Hi los nid nuz ruvaak, qeth-naak!](-) _ ” _

 

Why was it so vivid?

 

At last, Lonivahriin dropped Nahlotfel’s mostly lifeless body to his feet, slamming his foot down once more onto the other’s ribcage. His face came to crane mere inches from Nahlotfel’s again, eyes locked once more. His lips were drawn back in a snarl, the other’s blood melding with the acid that normally poured from his mouth.

Nahlotfel gathered all his energy into one last move of defiance. He managed to lurch his head forward, smashing it into Lonivahriin’s. The dragon snarled, glaring with all the hatred in the world to the smaller one. His talons tightened their grasp as he let out one more hiss.

“ _ Why. Won’t. You. Submit?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dreh ni kos mey, Nahlotfel. Hi mindok suleyki… uv dreh hi hind aav zeymahiil?** \- Do not be a fool, Nahlotfel. You know of my power… or do you wish to join your brethren?
> 
>  **Dreh hi koraav niin ni ol zeymahiil?** \- Do you see them not as your own brothers?
> 
>  **Balaaniil nunon fah aaki. Lost nii ni fah zu’u, hi aal kos nid nuz sahlo, sizaan kopraan do lot sunvaar. Nid, orin nu hi los mulhaan daar. Ni balaan tiidi, suleyki. Mindin pah daar, hi togaat wah gruth zu’u. Dreh hi vahzah sahvot daar hi lost mulaag wah grind zu’u?** \- Your worthiness is only because of my guidance. Were it not for me, you might be nothing but a weak, lost corpse of a great beast. No, even now you are still that. Not worth my time, my power. After all of this, you attempt to betray me. Do you truly believe that you have the strength to [face] me?
> 
>  **Zu’u fen vaaz viingiil nol sleniil, vaaz un siliil.** \- I will rip your wings from your body, and tear out your soul.
> 
>  **Rul hi hind lahney, hi fen thaarn zu’u. Lot gein vod, ol los enook gein wo aal ronit rok. Hi fen qiilaan** \- If you wish to live, you will obey me. The great one is gone, as are all the ones who might rival. You will submit.
> 
>  **Zu’u fen ofan hi gein… laat… miiraad…** \- I will give you one… last.. chance...
> 
>  **Nid, hi dreh ni koraav niin ol fron. Hi dreh ni koraav Zu’u ol fron.** \- No, you do not see them as kin. You do not see me as kin.
> 
>  **Zu’u zorox folaas stin hi.** \- I made a mistake freeing you.
> 
>  **Wah mindol, daar zu’u sizaan tiid naal spaan hi…** \- To think, that I lost time protecting you...
> 
>  **Nikod! Krosis! Hi los nid nuz ruvaak, qeth-naak!** \- Useless! Sorrow! You are nothing but a raven, a bone-eater!


	56. LVI. Wish I Knew You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut @ end of chapter.

Casil awoke to the sound of singing birds, and the blinding slant of the morning sun as it cut into the the small overhang the three had fallen asleep in. Water dripped from the trees outside, softly pattering on the pine below. She blinked, watching the reflection of water dance on the stone above from a puddle a few feet away. She lay there for a few long moments, collecting her thoughts. Finally, Casil sat up and looked around. 

Serana was back against the wall, leaning up against it. She looked like she was napping, and if nothing else she had her eyes closed. Jenassa had already packed, and was outside tending to the horses. She hadn’t noticed Casil was awake yet.

The bosmer woman brought a hand to her side, taking a deep, steady inhale. She shook her head after exhaling, rubbing her eye with her other hand before getting out of her bedroll. 

Serana cracked an eye open. “Oh, you’re up.”

Casil nodded, stretching as much as she could under the overhang before reaching down to grab her journal out of its bag. She lazily grabbed a piece of charcoal out of the fire. ‘How long have you two been up?’

Serana leaned forward a bit, squinting from under her cowl at the sun. “A hour, maybe. Not long.”

Jenassa glanced back from the horses. “There’s some breakfast in my bag, Casil. We should head out as soon as you’re ready.”

Casil nodded, crouching down by the dunmer’s bag to grab some morning rations before taking a seat on a stump. She gazed out at the surrounding forest as she ate in silence, thinking.

Miraak hadn’t turned up. They had left him in the cave, and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the old dragonborn. A creeping sensation of worry began to creep into Casil’s chest, but she very rapidly shook it off. Worry? Why? The bastard deserved it, and the arrogant fool would be fine. Why did she care anyways? He sure didn’t, beyond pushing her around. She made a face at the thought, before wiping the expression off her face. She didn’t need Serana to get interested in the subject again. She didn’t want  _ anyone  _ to be interested in the subject. She just wanted it to be dropped and left alone, or for Miraak to finally make up his mind and give her some sort of clear answer. None of this half-assed middle ground shit he had been giving her. For whatever amount of information he was  _ ever  _ going to give her.

When at last she finished her food, Casil packed her bag and bedroll and helped move things onto the horses again.

“It should only take us a day and a half more to reach your home,” Jenassa said, turning as Serana joined them beside the horses. “We should be near Solitude by nightfall.”

Serana nodded, adjusting her cowl before pulling herself up onto her horse. “I thank you again for assisting me. After all of those years in there…” She trailed off for a moment. “It’s… nice to have company, for however long it takes us to get there.”

Jenassa nodded, climbing onto her own. She turned to head off, but paused when she saw that Casil was still fidgeting with Maehaur’s bags. “Casil, are you alright?” She asked, furrowing her brow. It wasn’t like Casil to take awhile getting ready.

Casil waved a hand in dismissal at Jenassa, motioning for her to get started before she carefully pulled herself up onto the large steed. 

Jenassa frowned. Something was wrong. Casil wasn’t normally like that. Her lips pursed, before she nudged her horse forward. Serana moved her horse up beside Jenassa’s glancing to the woman with a frown of her own. Casil and Maehaur followed lazily behind, though the horse seemed to be keeping an good eye on the party ahead.

“Is Casil normally like this?” Serana asked, keeping her voice low.

Jenassa shook her head. “No. But, she’s had a lot on her plate. I don’t… blame her, for being tired.”

Serana let out a soft hum, shifting the reins in her hands. “I think she was having nightmares last night.”

Jenassa raised a brow, waiting for the woman to explain.

Serana gave a idle shrug. “She kicked me at one point.”

Jenassa couldn’t help but snort. “...I wouldn’t be surprised if she was.” After all they’d been through. Wouldn’t be the first time, either. Jenassa wasn’t sure how often Casil had nightmares, but she’d certainly had a few notable ones in the months they’d traveled together. Her red eyes scanned the sky. Most of the clouds had cleared up by early morning, but a few large, white and puffy ones still lazily drifted across the sky. The last good weather for a while, she thought. Before fall really set in. The leaves were already starting to turn orange and fall, and bad weather was becoming much more frequent. 

“Well, at least you’ll be in better cover soon. It’s fall already,” Jenassa commented,  glancing at Serana.

The woman chuckled. “Believe it or not, I like the sun,” she said.

Jenassa raised a brow in surprise, giving Serana a surprised and almost skeptical look. “Even if you can’t be in it?”

The vampire nodded. “The sun was… always my favorite. Even before all of this,” she said, trailing off. 

Jenassa wanted to inquire further, but knew Serana probably wouldn’t answer. She nodded her head though in reply. “It is nice. Sometimes I wonder why I bother staying up here in Skyrim, where it’s cloudy and raining most of the year.”

Serana smiled. “What’s keeping you staying around here?”

Jenassa glanced back at Casil. The dragonborn looked like she was starting to doze off while sitting in the saddle. Serana followed her gaze, before chuckling.

“How’d you find her, anyways?”

“She hired me, after she killed my last patron,” Jenassa said with a grunt. 

“You’re a sellsword?” Serana asked, surprised.

Jenassa shrugged. “Is, was. Casil hired me after, and i’ve been hanging around her since.”

“So she’s not paying you anymore is what you’re saying.”

“She is. I just…” 

“She’s your friend, and you’re worried about her.”

Jenassa ran a hand through her hair with a long sigh. “...I don’t like leaving her around Miraak. I did for a few weeks, and now we’re out here.”

Serana gave a nod of her head. “I can’t blame you. He doesn’t seem like a kind individual. Casil said he was the first dragonborn. How did you find him, if he’s that…  _ old?  _ Because surely he isn’t a vampire too.”

“It’s a long story. And i’m sure you understand how I feel about long stories at this stage,” Jenassa said, throwing her a glance.

Serana snorted, grinning enough to show her fangs. “Birds of a feather.”

Jenassa managed a rare smile of her own. “I’ll be honest. It’s… been nice talking to someone else.”

“Same here,” Serana replied, closing her eyes.

 

The triad continued on in relative peace for some time. Casil lingered behind, Maehaur trying his best not to wake the dozing dovahkiin on his back as he trailed behind the other two horses. A few people passed them as they traveled, but to Jenassa’s relief nobody inquired or seemed suspicious about Serana or Casil. She hoped her stature as a mercenary was enough to ward anyone who might have decided to pick trouble with the other two.

By mid afternoon though their peace and quiet was broken. Casil had woken out of her slumber, but was still trailing a little behind the others when a large shadow passed overhead.

Jenassa quickly drew her bow, nocking an arrow as she looked up. Casil gripped the reins, readying a fireball in her hands. Serana’s eyes widened. 

“Is that… a dragon!?” 

Jenassa nodded. “Now… is it a  _ friendly _ dragon is the question…”

“Friendly?!”

“Dovahkiin!” The dragon roared. Casil grimaced, moving Maehaur back as the dragon came to land. Of course.

Miraak jumped off of Sulronaazrath before the dragon had even touched the ground, landing with catlike grace before he straightened himself out.

Jenassa sighed, lowering her bow but now putting it away. Serana moved her horse behind Jenassa’s, unsure of if she wanted to be near the angry dragonborn.

Casil was tempted to huck the fireball at him anyways.

“ _ Casil, _ ” he hissed, striding towards her with long steps.

Casil tightened her grip on the reins even more, keeping the fireball alight in her hand. She narrowed her eyes in response, but didn’t bother giving him any other satisfaction for a response.

Jenassa moved her horse forward between Miraak and Casil, arrow drawn again and pointed at him. “I will not allow you to come and harass my patron, Miraak,” she said lowly, eyes narrowed at the man in the mask.

“Move aside,  _ joor _ ,” he snapped at Jenassa, drawing his sword. “This is between me, and Casil.”

“No, it is not. My job is to protect Casil, and you are a  _ threat  _ to her. Stand down,” Jenassa snapped back, drawing the bowstring back further. 

Serana, to Casil’s surprise, moved to push Casil back. Lightning crackled around one of Serana’s hands, and she kept an eye on Miraak as he eyed her back.

Miraak cracked his neck back, giving a low chuckle. “Even roped the blood drinker into this, I see,” he growled.

Serana didn’t reply, keeping her eyes locked on the man.

“This is your last warning, Miraak. You are not welcome here if you’re going to treat Casil like this,” Jenassa replied coldly, bow pulled to its full tautness. 

Sulronaazarth lumbered towards them, bearing row after row of sharp teeth. “ [ _ Dreh hi hind fah zu’u krii daar vahdin, thuri? _ _ ”  _ ](-)

Jenassa’s face pulled back into a grimace, eyeing the large dragon that had come to back Miraak. 

Miraak held his sword up, pointing it at Jenassa. “Move. Aside.”

“What is your problem?” Serana suddenly spat. 

Miraak jerked his head to look at her. “Silence. You  _ certainly  _ have nothing to do with this,” he snapped back.

Casil felt very small all of the sudden, more so than usual. Very small, and afraid. She shrunk back behind Serana. Why had the vampire even come to her defense? The woman had known her for less than 24 hours, and throwing herself between a angry dragonborn and his dragon was not a little thing.

“I don’t have to watch you keep treating her like-”

Casil pulled Maehaur reluctantly forward. The only way for this not to end in bloodshed was by stepping up herself. Miraak wouldn’t back down, and she didn’t think Jenassa would either at this point. The woman was a mere finger slip away from launching a ebony arrow directly into Miraak’s chest from 4 feet away.

Jenassa inhaled sharply as Casil passed by her. The bosmer slid off her horse stiffly, taking her horse’s reins before tossing them to Jenassa. ‘Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you. Miraak and I need to talk.’ She signed, emphasising the last sentence by shooting the nord a scalding glare.

Jenassa was forced to lower her bow and arrow to catch the reins, exhaling with a hard sigh. She put the arrow back into its quiver, returning her bow to its place before glancing to Serana. Serana looked just as worried, but with reluctance Jenassa urged her horse forward after a few hushed words to Casil. “You can’t let him push you around, sera. If I don’t see you following soon, or you aren’t on the outskirts of Solitude by nightfall, i’m killing him.”

Casil sighed and nodded, watching the dunmer woman leave with their escort. Both gave her a few more over the shoulder glances, before committing to the road ahead.

Miraak and Casil waited until the two were out of earshot  before turning to each other.

“Sulronaazrath, [bo. Zu’u fen bel hi ko mal tiid](-) _ ,”  _ Miraak ordered the dragon. The beast rumbled, before taking to the sky with a ‘ _ geh, thuri.’ _

 

Casil and Miraak were left alone in the fields that stretched out around Whiterun. Both dragonborn faced each other with folded arms, silence for several minutes after Sulronaazrath left. His shadow would occasionally pass over them as the dragon circled far above, waiting to be called back down.

‘Are you just going to hide behind your stupid mask?’ Casil finally signed with a scowl.

Miraak grunted. “Does it matter to you?”

‘Yes, it does. If you want to talk, you don’t get to hide behind that.’

Miraak chuckled, shaking his head. But to her surprise, he did comply. He unhooked the mask, pulling it off his face with his hood. 

Casil strode up to him, and slapped him as hard as she humanly could. Which wasn’t really that hard, but she hoped to the Divine that it got her point across.

And it landed. Her hand came across his face with a loud smack, jerking his head to the side. He froze there, before simply gazing at the ground.

Casil took a step back, a bit surprised and now rather  _ afraid.  _

Miraak wetted his lower lip, before chuckling. “Is that all?”

She furrowed her brow. Was that all? Did he want her to hit him again or something? 

His pitch black gaze moved to meet her’s, and he seemed a mix of amused and…  _ furious. _

Casil felt like a rabbit who just had the audacity to kick a wolf.

Jenassa and Serana weren’t too far away though. Her gaze flicked out to them and then back to the man before her.

Miraak took a step towards her, easily closing the gap she had put between them after slapping him. He towered over her, crooked grin spreading on his face. He didn’t even seem to be particularly perturbed by the growing red hand-shaped mark on his face. “I asked you, _is that all?_ Or have you suddenly stopped being able to hear as well?” he taunted, eyes narrowed into black slits.

Casil felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. She tried to step back, but he grabbed her by the front of her shirt to pull her closer. 

“You wanted to talk, so let’s  _ talk, _ ” he hissed.

‘Then what the hell is your problem?’ Casil signed, glaring.

“I thought i’ve made that  _ obvious,  _ you fool,” he snarled. “I’m not about to allow you to run off and get yourself killed like some sort of farmhand, and ruin the name of Dragonborn because you are a senseless, reckless  _ child. _ ”

She tried to jerk herself out of his grip, but he held tight. ‘What do you care? Hardly anybody knows i’m the dragonborn anyways. Just leave me be. You wanted me to die anyways, so why bother saving me now?’

Miraak seemed to be growing increasingly irritated. “I just  _ told  _ you the answer to that question.”

‘No, you didn’t. You just think i’m going to ruin the dragonborn name or whatever but it doesn’t matter if nobody knows that’s who I am anyways. And if it bothers you that much why don’t you just kill me right now yourself!?’

Miraak’s grin grew, and Casil struggled to pull away. Divines, why did she say that? He pulled his sword up, using her body to discreetly hide it in case Jenassa or Serana looked back. The blade came to rest at her neck, cutting into her skin and drawing a few drops of blood. Casil stared at him with fearful eyes, wincing as she began to breath faster.

“Oh, mal dovhakiin, how many times have I warned you not to tempt or push me?” he asked, asking in almost a purr.

Casil swallowed hard, wincing as she did so. She stared at him, tears starting to well in her eyes. ‘Then why do you keep coming to my rescue? Why do you keep trying to protect me? Why did you wash me off after you found me in the forge? Why… why did you  _ seduce  _ me?!’

Miraak did not move the blade back, but his predatory grin faltered for a split second. “How is this so difficult for you to understand?” he growled, tightening his grip on her shirt. “You mean  _ nothing  _ to me,  _ Casil.  _ You are a  _ prize  _ and a  _ tool.  _ I thought I made that abundantly clear.  And if you want to keep  _ disobeying  _ I  _ will  _ kill you. Do you understand that?” he snarled, showing his teeth.

Casil felt her heart pound in her chest, feeling blood slowly run down her neck from the shallow cut the sword was causing.

‘I’m not  _ anyone’s  _ tool, Miraak. I wasn’t Mora’s, and I won’t be yours,’ she dared to sign. ‘So go ahead. Kill me. If that’s all I mean to you.’

He stiffened, eyes widening slightly, but enough for Casil to notice. His grip tightened on her and the blade with a squeak of his gloves, and Casil’s breath hitched. She gathered all of her courage to stare him down though, challenging him to do it.

 

Do it. 

 

Kill me.

 

His body trembled lightly, jaw clearly tensing as he gritted his teeth. Casil felt tears trickle down her face, but she kept her hard stare at him. 

 

You can’t do it. You can’t kill me.

 

You never could. Just like I could never kill you.

 

His breath hitched, and he flinched. Casil clenched her eyes tight as the blade drew across her neck… but it did not cut deeper than it already was. Miraak let go, letting her fall on her ass before letting out a stifled exhale. Casil winced, before glaring up at him. He turned and put the back on his belt, turning to pick up his mask.

She rubbed the shallow cut on her neck, using a little magic to heal it before getting up angrily. So he was just going to turn away on her now? After threatening to kill her? Casil followed him, before picking up her pace.

She tackled into his back as hard as she could, sending the other dragonborn to the ground face first. Miraak winced as Casil landed on him and smashed his face into the dirt and meadow plants, before he turned and knocked her off. Casil threw a punch, hitting him in the shoulder blade before he snarled and took a swing back.

 

Sulronaazrath watched the two dragonborns roll back and forth across the landscape, fighting it out like a pair of over-powered toddlers. The dragon rolled his eyes. He somehow was not surprised.

 

Casil let out something like a very muted, strangled scream as she managed to hook her fist into Miraak’s face. It hurt like hell, but she saw him wince and that was good enough for her. She was met in return by Miraak grabbing her by her collar and slamming her into the neighboring ground. He straddled her waist, slapping her hard before trying to finally get her arms pinned down. She managed to wiggle one free enough to claw at his face, giving her enough room to slide out from under him. She tried to push her weight into his chest, shoving him over this time to do the same. Instead of going for the arms, she went for his throat. Her small hands wrapped around his thick neck, trying to tighten around it for a few brief seconds before Miraak ripped her hands away with ease. He managed to sit up, holding her hands above her head as he stared down at her, panting. She stared back, their faces inches from each other, covered in sweat, cuts, bruises, blood, tears and dirt. Casil gritted her teeth, staring into his eyes. 

After a moment, he finally let out a exhale and rested his head against her shoulder, slowly catching his breath. He let her hands go, and she let them fall on his back. She rested her head back against his shoulder, having a much harder time catching her breath. She was much, much worse for wear, but she had gotten a few blows in on him and at least made him work for the hits he got on her.

They sat there for a few minutes, leaning against each other as Casil sat in his lap. Casil didn’t know why, but she felt  _ better.  _ Maybe it was just unbottling all of her anger. She felt Miraak shift, resting his lips against the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, biting back more tears. His strong arms pulled her closer to his chest as he exhaled again.

“[Oh, silyoli, silyoli… nii fen kos dez fah jul ahrk dov krif med daar…](-) _ ”  _ He muttered against her neck with a sigh. 

Casil gripped his robe with one hand and ran her other hand through his sweat and dirt covered hair, wiping her tears off on his shoulder. 

He pulled away at last, tilting Casil’s chin up with a finger to look at her. She stared back, swallowing hard again as she studied his features to try to distract herself from crying more.

He studied her back, a certain distance to how he gazed at her. 

Casil felt her heart jump a bit, and she could feel her cheeks turned red. She finally dropped her head, moving away from his fingers. She pushed herself off of him, awkwardly moving to her feet as she brushed her robe free of dirt and dust. Miraak looked up at her with a certain curiosity, before getting up himself. He turned to finally pick up his mask.

“Your feelings are misplaced, dovahkiin,” he said simply, donning his mask again before facing the sky. “ _ Sul Ronaaz Rath!”  _

The dragon slowly circled back down, lazily drifting to land a few feet away from them with a cloud of grass, dirt and flower petals. 

Of all the blows they had just exchanged, those words hurt the worst. Casil gripped the shawl at her chest a bit, glancing to the nord.

He waited next to Sulronaazrath, motioning for her to join him. Casil glanced the direction Jenassa and Serana had gone with puffy eyes. They were out of sight, no doubt having dipped over one of the distant hills. With some reluctance and some very conflicting feelings, Casil stepped over to Miraak. He helped her onto the dragon’s scaly neck, before pulling himself up to sit behind her.

“ [ _ Kolos dreh hi laan zu’u bo, thuri _ _? _ ](-) ” Sulronaazrath rumbled, spreading his wings out. Casil gripped to the spines on his neck, still not really used to flying on the back of a dragon.

“[Hofkiin](-) _ , _ ” Miraak replied gruffly. The great beast made a curious noise, before taking a running start to his flight. 

The word was not familiar to Casil, but she had to trust Miraak at this point… wherever they might be going. One of Miraak’s arms came to wrap around her, holding her close and steady as Sulronaazrath gained elevation. Once they had gotten above the clouds and leveled out, Casil leaned back against Miraak and tried to close her eyes. She felt the cold metal of his mask against her neck.

“Rest,  _ mal dovahkiin.  _ It will be some time before we arrive, and we can get you bandaged,” he said.

Casil wasn’t sure if she could sleep while in the air, but soon enough exhaustion overtook her and she began to doze against the other dragonborn.

 

She awoke when Sulronzaarath began to descend again. The air had gotten significantly colder since when they had taken off, and the dragon had to drop down into a very thick looking stormcloud. Miraak held her tight, and Casil instinctively gripped their ride’s neck again for support as they hit turbulence. Dampness collected on her cheeks and hair as they descended down into the cloud, before it began to freeze. The dropped out below the cloud and into a snowfall covering an area that Casil was not familiar with. Mountainous, and forest covered. That was all she knew. Sulronazaarth continued to slowly slope downwards, until Casil could make out their destination. A crumbling ruin was set into the side of one of the mountains overlooking a wide valley below. 

So this was where Miraak had been hiding. The dragon carefully landed on a large platform on top of the ruin, kicking up snow before he lowered his neck for the two dragonborn to get off. Miraak hopped off first, before helping Casil down. She caught Sulronazaath’s stare, and the dragon gave a curious head tilt. 

“[Saraan het. Mu fen ni kos lingrah](-) _ ,”  _ Miraak said with a wave of his hand towards the beast.

The dragon chuckled, but said nothing more.

Miraak lead her down a set of stairs that wrapped around to lead to a balcony that jutted out from the highest room that she could see. A obviously new door had been built into the ruins, including some glass that had been affixed to the old window slots. Miraak produced a key from his pocket, unlocking the door before motioning for her to enter. Casil glanced at him, before stepping inside.

It was dark, but she could faintly see without any lights. She stopped only a few feet from the door, eyes scanning over the room.

A decent sized bed had been pushed up against one wall, with a night stand. A few old relics scattered or lined the other walls, along with a few large, stuffed bookshelves, a unlit fireplace, and a desk that was coated with a thick layer of papers. Miraak closed the door behind them, dimming the light in the room before he simply walked over and lit one of the few sconces with magic. It was not a pretty room. Most things in it seemed to be salvaged from his previous temple, or were salvaged from other places. It was both cluttered and sparse at the same time, with no real things of value or interest and a lot of tattered pieces strewn over most of the open spaces.

Miraak lit just a few candles and sconces, before moving over to a very beaten looking cabinet. He pulled it open after taking his mask and gloves off and setting them on top of another cabinet, before pulling out a box of medical supplies. He glanced back at her, eyeing her as she stood there before motioning to a chair that was pulled off to the side. “You can sit down. Please, do, in fact,” he said, shifting through the box for a few supplies. He picked out some bandages, before setting them on the desk. He moved into a neighboring room, collecting a pitcher of water before bringing it and a piece of loose cloth back into the room. He dragged another chair over with his foot before sitting down in front of Casil. 

She hung her head. ‘I can just use magic,’ she signed, avoiding looking at him.

“Use some of it, but don’t waste all your energy on such minor wounds. If your vampire friend has a hungry family, I would prefer if we saved magicka to fight them,” he said, with a hint of… humor? To his voice.

She nodded, pulling her shawl off so she could check for the worst wounds to fix. Miraak did the same, simply pulling his top to the side.

“I’m surprised you managed to hit me at all,” he grunted, healing a handful of gashes she’d managed to give him.

‘Only because I hit you into rocks,’ Casil signed back, trying to hide a smile as she fixed a few of hers.

Miraak snorted. “I’m trying to give you a  _ compliment,”  _ he retorted. 

She raised a brow skeptically at him. ‘You aren’t very good at giving them then.’

He rolled his eyes, a event Casil still couldn’t fully tell if he was doing or not. Once the worst of their gashes had been healed, he picked up the cloth and dipped it in the water so he could wipe the dirt, blood and grit off of his face. Casil watched him for a moment, feeling her heart jump again.

He wrung the cloth out once he was done, handing it over to Casil with a raised brow. She took it, doing the same. She paused though, before setting it down to ask him a question. ‘Why do we do this?’

Miraak tilted his head, picking bandages out to cover a few of his remaining cuts. “Do what? Fight?”

Casil nodded. ‘Fight. And then act like nothing wrong happened.’

Miraak chuckled. “ [ _ Mu los jul ahrk dov, ko gein. Nii ko un sil wah krif _ _ , _ ](-) ” Miraak explained simply.

Casil frowned. ‘That doesn’t help me. But… you said something like that earlier. I don’t know all of what you’re saying yet,’ she signed back, cursing him silently for talking so much in dovahzul.

The man hummed as Casil put the cloth back on the jug of water. “It is simply what we  _ are  _ Casil,” he said, getting up. He moved to walk past her, but she reached up to grab his robe. He paused, looking down at her. Casil swallowed, before she pulled herself up on him to stand at his side. Her hands raised up to say something, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she reached up to pull him down into a kiss. 

He cupped her face in one of his hands, deepening the kiss before he pulled away with a snort. “A few hours ago you wanted me dead,” he purred.

Casil glanced down, resting her head against his chest. Her hands came back up again, but he gripped them before she could form any words. He pulled her close, shaking his head. “[Hi fen kren siliil voth daar mindol](-) _ ,”  _ he whispered into her ear, holding her hands to his chest.

She bit her lip, unsure of what he said. He brought her chin up again with his finger, gazing down at her. 

“[Ahrk Zu’u fen kos rahgron fod zaamiil ahraan naal kos mey](-) _ ,”  _ he purred.

Casil furrowed her brow. She understood a few of those words, and she did not like his choice. Before she could object though. He had sat back down in one of the chairs and pulled her forward to sit in his lap. His lips found her’s again, with one arm hooked around her lower back and the other cradled the back of her head. Casil wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes. 

What difference did it make, Casil wondered. If he knew how she felt. If he thought of her any differently. Because even if he saw her as his servant, his  _ slave  _ even, he had proven to her that she would not do anything about it. He had proven, even with Jenassa backing her and a vampire backing her, that she would willingly crawl back to him at the end of the day. That despite their fights, despite brawling and arguing and getting up in each other’s faces over things, that she’d still find that her heart  _ ached  _ for him.

He was right, though he’d never said it. She  _ was  _ a lovestruck, almost childishly naive woman. What a fool she was! Even if he hadn’t intended for it, he’d seduced her and she’d fallen for him… and hard. Painfully hard. Head over heels for this bastard. For his surprisingly decent looks, for his voice, for his knowledge, for… everything. Even sometimes his irritating personality was attractive in a way that Casil could not for the life of her understand. 

She’d fallen in love with her rival, with her opposite. And it hurt. It hurt because she knew he did not love her back. She  _ was  _ his prize. That was all she was to him. And it hurt because she knew her own feelings towards him meant nothing to him. It was just a easier way of playing her to his desires.

What a fool she was.

Miraak pulled her hips down against him, grinding her against himself as she straddled his waist. His tongue invaded her mouth, causing her to grip his shirt in surprise. He groaned against her lips, gripping her hips tighter in his hands. She could feel his bulge pushing up against her through his robes, and she silently cursed herself for allowing herself to get into this situation again.

Even though two of what Casil guessed would now be three times,  _ she  _ had initiated it. She hated herself even more.

The nord moved to shift her to his bed, fumbling with her blouse.

‘What about Sulronaazarth?’  Casil managed to sign, panting slightly as he pulled her shirt from her small frame.

“He can wait,” Miraak breathed, leaning over to kiss her neck. She shuddered, letting him leave nips and kisses across her skin. Every time he met a bruise or a scrape, he would bite down harder, causing Casil to lurch with a strangled yelp before he soothed it with a gentle lick and a flurry of kisses. Her hands reached up to push his robe off completely, allowing her hands to wander over his broad shoulders before digging her nails into his back. Miraak growled against her ear, leaving another firm bite on her neck in response. Her breath hitched, tilting her head to the side to allow him more access.

One of his hands gripped at her pants and pulled them down, throwing them to the side before he hooked one of her legs around him. His lips trailed over her shoulder and collarbone, before working down to her chest. Casil covered her eyes with a hand, blushing profusely as he kissed over her chest, leaving a bite at her nipple before moving down more.

Upon realizing his intention, Casil’s eyes shot open and she nearly kneed him in the face as she jerked her legs closed and sat up. 

Miraak raised a brow as Casil shook her head rapidly, face red as a beat as she tried to pull him back up. “Mm?  _ Timid? _ ” he teased.

Casil puffed her cheeks up at him, holding his face in her hands as she gave him a hard look. 

“You’d enjoy it,” he insisted. 

She was sure she would, but… right now, she didn’t have the guts or heart to let him go that far. Instead, she kissed him again, trying to hitch a leg around his waist again. Miraak grunted, but obliged this time. He undid his belt and freed himself of his pants, pulling her to the edge of the bed. He positioned himself in her, before roughly pushing in. 

Casil winced. She wasn’t as ready as she was last time, but she still… wanted,  _ needed  _ this. With him. Right now. Miraak groaned against her ear, hunching over her as he pushed into her. Her arms wrapped around his chest, letting out a shuddery sigh as he pulled out and thrust back in. He propped himself up with one hand and caressed her side with the other as he began to pound himself into her, earning deep grunts from the oldest dragonborn. Casil grimaced a bit, but took her discomfort out by dragging her nails down his back. He hissed, causing him to thrust a bit deeper. Casil gasped and arched sharply into him, letting out a empty, soundless moan. She wrapped a leg around him tightly, trying to let him push further into her.

His teeth found her neck again, as they always did it seemed. He bit her, rocking his hips into her with powerful thrusts. As he brought himself closer to move deeper, she managed to catch a bit of his own shoulder to bite. Her teeth sunk down as hard as she could, making Miraak almost snarl as he slammed her further into the bed. He gripped one of her legs and brought it up, thrusting roughly into her. She slid her hands around to his chest, raking her nails down there. He replied by digging his own nails into her side, almost chuckling while he moaned. He moved to bite her again, but this time it was much harder than usual. Casil let out a gasp of actual pain, one of her hands hitting his chest in surprise and discomfort. Miraak paused, letting go.

“Are you alright?”

Casil blinked away a few tears, not fully sure if she heard him correctly. Did he… ask if she was ok? Did he  _ care?  _

Miraak wiped a tear away with his thumb, frowning as he panted. Her look answered his question, and he moved to gently kiss the bite mark. She wrapped her arms around him again as he began to thrust again, grunting as he shifted her hips. She held him close, panting and trying to grind herself against her lover until at last she felt herself tighten up around him. She pushed her face into his neck, shuddering violently as pleasure washed over her. Miraak gave a deep groan, muttering something in dovahzul as he continued to thrust. His pace picked up, causing Casil to bite her own knuckles before at last the man pulled out and emptied onto her stomach. 

The two panted, foreheads rested against each other’s shoulders. Finally he pulled away, trailing his fingers over her cheek before he walked to grab the cloth they were using earlier to clean himself and Casil off.

“We should get going,” he muttered when he was done, tossing the dirty rang to the side. Casil shuddered and sat up, cheeks red again. He grabbed the clothing off the floor, tossing Casil what was her’s before donning his own outfit.

With shaky legs, Casil put her own robes back on, trying to reign in her emotions. Miraak took far less time in getting prepared to leave, and waited emotionlessly by the door while Casil finished tying her own robe. He opened the door for her, letting her out before locking it after he left. Casil slowly made her way up to the waiting dragon, who seemed amused when she finally came up.

“I see you were getting better…  _ acquainted  _ with  _ thuri, mal dovahkiin… _ ” Solronaazrath taunted, swishing his tail back and forth in amusement. Casil glowered at the beast.

“You would best keep your maw  _ shut,  _ Solronaazrath,” Miraak growled as he followed up behind Casil. He helped her back onto the dragon’s neck, before joining her. “To Solitude,” he grunted.

Casil awkwardly leaned back to him, glad she could at least blame the ride on the dragon for having shaky legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dreh hi hind fah zu’u krii daar vahdin, thuri?** \- Do you wish for me to kill this woman, milord?
> 
>  **Sulronaazrath, bo. Zu’u fen bel hi ko mal tiid** \- Sulronaazrath, fly. I will summon you in short time.
> 
>  **Oh, silyoli, silyoli… nii fen kos dez fah jul ahrk dov krif med daar…** \- Oh, my soulfire, my soulfire… it must be fate for man and dragon to fight like this.
> 
>  **Kolos dreh hi laan zu’u bo, thuri** \- Where do you want me to fly, milord?
> 
>  **Hofkiin** \- Home
> 
>  **Saraan het. Mu fen ni kos lingrah** -Stay here. We will not be long.
> 
>  **Mu los jul ahrk dov, ko gein. Nii ko un sil wah krif** \- We are man and dragon, in one. It is in our nature to fight.
> 
>  **Hi fen kren siliil voth daar mindol** \- You will break your soul with those thoughts.
> 
>  **Ahrk Zu’u fen kos rahgron fod zaamiil ahraan naal kos mey** \- And I will be angry if my slave is hurt being a fool.


	57. LVII. Green Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting really bad about my editing so I apoLOGIZE BUT...  
> Thank you everyone for leaving comments aaaah it always makes me so wonderfully happy to see them!!  
> Also- Bonus images-  
> -Casil/Miraak -http://necr0wmancer.tumblr.com/post/159872259188/you-taught-me-the-courage-of-stars-before-you  
> -Sketches of all the non-canon dragons so far - http://necr0wmancer.tumblr.com/post/159888670198/also-quick-shitty-sketches-of-various-fic-dragons

Jenassa was relieved to see the dragon before the sun went down, and was even more relieved to see that Casil was on its back. At least Casil and Miraak hadn’t  _ killed  _ each other, though she would very much love to see the nord dead. 

Serana and Jenassa had set up camp some ways out from Solitude off the main roads, and neither had fully relaxed since they had left and lost sight of the two dragonborns. Jenassa swore that if something happened to her patron, she’d never be able to forgive herself. Jenassa had been hired by plenty of people; some had lived, some hadn’t. Casil had killed her last one after all. But Casil was… well, Casil was a  _ friend  _ now. 

Sulronaazarth looked for a place to land amongst all the trees, reluctantly settling on landing in the road so that his riders could dismount. A handful of guards gathered defensively in case the dragon was there to attack their city, but once Miraak and Casil had gotten off Sulronaazrath had taken off to the skies again, flying very clearly in the opposite direction of Solitude. 

Casil couldn’t blame everyone for still being antsy. Dragons had not stopped their attacks, but the numbers had taken a very sharp decline since where they had been only a little less than a year prior. She wished Miraak wouldn’t use them for transportation as often, because it made everyone else around her jumpy. Hell, it still made  _ her  _ jumpy. She was waiting for the day she mistook a dragon as one of Miraak’s, only for it to attack or just demolish her whole.

Jenassa greeted the two half way between the road and their small camp.

“Is everything alright, sera?” Jenassa asked when Casil was at last within earshot.

Casil stayed to Miraak’s side, cursing Miraak and Sulronaazarth for their respective parts in making her legs shake. For very different reasons, but she cursed them both all the same. She nodded in response to Jenassa’s question though, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Just needed to talk, like I said.’

Jenassa shifted her gaze between Casil’s averted gaze, and Miraak’s expressionless mask. She nodded though. “Alright. It’s good to have you back. We should be able to make it to Serana’s home by midday tomorrow,” Jenassa said, turning back to head towards camp. She strode a few feet, before glancing back at Miraak. “Will you be joining us? Or leaving?”

Casil glanced at the older dragonborn. She wasn’t even sure what his plan was. He hadn’t really explained or given her any sort of idea on the subject.

Miraak grunted. “I don’t plan on letting the dragonborn walk blindly into the heart of a vampire clan alone, no.”

Jenassa rolled her eyes. “She wouldn’t be alone in the first place, but we  _ appreciate  _ having another hand in case things  _ do  _ go south.”

Casil squeezed the man’s arm before he decided to snark back, giving him a sort of pleading look from his side. His mask tilted just enough to imply that he glanced at her, and he said nothing. Casil gave a stiff sigh of relief. 

Even though they had their spats, Casil missed Sterlas’s general ability to defuse the tension. She missed the damned mutt in general. She shoved the thought out of her head, and focused on the task ahead of them.

Serana even seemed rather relieved that Casil had come back what seemed to be relatively unharmed, and for once there was little to no tension over the campfire. 

Which was suddenly, very strange to Jenassa. Ever since Miraak had joined the party, there had almost  _ always  _ tension between Miraak and  _ somebody _ , usually Casil. Just a day or two earlier it had been practically tangible. The two wouldn’t look or talk to each other, would sit on other sides of the fire as if touching each other would be physically painful. But tonight, the two sat relatively close to each other, and while they did not exchange a lot of words with each other neither seemed to be avoiding the other. They seemed relaxed, and at least were willing to  _ look  _ in the other’s direction.

Jenassa sipped her mug, glancing over the dancing flames at the two dragonborns as Casil wrote something to Serana, at which Miraak tilted his head to read as well.

Must have fucked, Jenassa thought. She shuddered at the thought. When Sterlas had told her what he’d seen before they fought Alduin, she swore on every Divine that he was pulling her leg. But no, he wasn’t. She wasn’t one to pry into people’s personal lives, but something about the idea of those two sleeping together made her skin crawl. Casil was far from young by anyone’s standards, but it was maybe just because Miraak just generally passed off on her as  _ creepy.  _

How did she managed to get wrapped up in this mess? 

“So,” Jenassa spoke, setting the mug down on the log beside her before crossing her legs, “what’s the plan tomorrow?”

Casil looked up from her journal, setting it and the fragment of charcoal into her lap. She looked to Serana to see if the woman had any input first, since Casil wasn’t… really sure where they were going, besides one of the islands a little ways out. 

“We should be able to get a boat to take us to the island,” Serana said, folding her arms. “Then I guess you’ll just take me inside. Though, you should probably leave the talking to me… I’m… not really sure how my father will take things, assuming he’s still there.”

Casil threw Miraak a glance, but the man paid it no mind. 

Jenassa nodded. “And you’re sure they won’t just rip us apart? Because if you’re planning to lead us in there for us to be dinner, i’m afraid you’re underestimating how strong we are,” Jenassa warned stiffly.

Serana chuckled. “No, I don’t. And I won’t let them eat you either. You saved me, and for that i’m more thankful than I could ever express. The last thing I’d want is for my family to turn you into dinner.”

‘I wouldn’t appreciate that either,’ Casil signed idly with a shudder. Though with how the Divines had been, Casil wouldn’t be surprised in the least if she met her end on the table of a bunch of vampires.

“You’ve fought the World-Eater, Casil. And won. I doubt any vampire would be able to top that,” Jenassa said with a firm nod. 

Casil expected Miraak to jump in on how she couldn’t do it without him, but for once he didn’t. He was surprisingly quiet, Casil noticed. With his mask off, she did notice him glance at the comment, but he made no motion to reply.

“We should rest then,” he said finally. “In case they  _ do  _ decide to pick a fight.”

The other three nodded in agreement. 

“I’ll keep watch for a while,” Serana said, leaning back where she sat. “Since I have the least to worry about… I hope.”

Casil got up and pulled her bedroll off Maehaur, giving the horse a pat before finding a place to settle down. Miraak had grabbed his own off of the horse Serana had borrowed, which she realized was… a little awkward, but that’s what he deserved. She still stuck to that.

Casil shifted, trying to get comfortable. Miraak found a place to lay down somewhere a little ways away from her, much to her… disappointment. She couldn’t help but frown a little when he rolled to turn his back away from her. She’d almost been hoping he’d at least lay close, but apparently he was going to be adamant about not being....

Being what? Nice? Loving? Kind? Casil didn’t even know. She sighed and pulled the flap of the roll over her head, sinking down into it.

Divines she felt  _ stupid.  _

 

Serana and Jenassa agreed to share a horse the next day, so Miraak could have his back. The group left before the crack of dawn, heading further north then Casil had ever been before. She’d never had a reason to come out that direction, which in all fairness, there wasn’t much out there. They passed only one person in the entire time they traveled, despite being fairly close to Skyrim’s capital. No houses, no even real ruins. A few ships and shipwrecks lingered off the coast, but beyond that it was fairly desolate. 

No wonder vampires lived up here. Or, maybe that was  _ why  _ it was desolate. Casil didn’t know. She honestly hadn’t heard of any big vampire group up there before, so she had a feeling that they largely kept to themselves. As much as vampires ever did. Working in the kind of ways that made it less obvious who was behind the actions. 

But finally, Casil could make out their destination on the horizon. What appeared to be a good-sized castle lay silhouetted on the horizon, somewhere out on a spit of land in the ocean. Casil wasn’t sure about how they were going to get a boat to get out there, but to her surprise Serana lead them to a small building and a sad, lonely dock that was hidden in a deep, rocky cove some ways up the coast. 

The small pale stone building looked like it had seen much better days, but it wasn’t absolutely abandoned. A few new looking candles rested in the lamps a fixed to the front of the shack, and the door looked like it had been fairly recently replaced. The building was beat and worn from years of abuse from the ocean winds and spray, but it was far from just a forgotten ruin. While nobody seemed to be residing inside of it, a small oar boat lay tied to the dock. 

“Looks like it’s still here,” Serana said with a sigh of relief, before she glanced out at the castle over the water. “And if it is, then the castle must still be in use.”

Casil pulled Maehaur up to the hut, sliding off the horse’s back before tying him to the small stretch of fencing that lay under one of the few outcroppings of cover. Her companions moved to do the same as she carefully peered into the now frosted glass of the building. Nobody appeared to be home, that was for certain. Just a place for Divines knew who to stop by before delivering their goods to the castle, Casil assumed.

Like bodies.

Casil carefully got into the oar boat, sitting as far to the front as she could. The other three piled in, and Jenassa reluctantly took up the oars. Casil helped untie and push them off, before they drifted out towards the castle.

Casil hugged her knees, resting her head on them as the boat rocked over the waves. She  _ hated  _ boats. The woman was trying her hardest not to get sick in front of Serana, but it didn’t work. The boat had hardly made it out of the alcove before she threw up over the side. Miraak made it to half way between the shore and the castle before he threw up as well.

Jenassa wasn’t sure if she should  _ laugh  _ or just roll her eyes in disgust at the two dragonborn’s seasickness. 

Serana folded her arms, leaning away from the two. “I thought you two would have a stronger stomach than that.”

“I think Casil has only been on a boat twice before this,” Jenassa noted, not bothering to see if Casil wanted to confirm or deny that. 

Serana glanced to Miraak, expecting an explanation for  _ him  _ to be sick.

Jenassa shrugged. “He was trapped in Oblivion for a few  _ millenia. _ ”

Serana raised her brow, before nodding. “Fair enough.”

Both dragonborn were grateful to reach solid land again, though it took both of them a few minutes to adjust and collect themselves before either were willing to move forward. Neither wanted whoever might be inside to see them as just a pair of seasick fools. At last, Casil straightened herself out to survey what they were walking into.

A small tower was built up next to the dock they had pulled up at, no doubt some sort of watch tower or something similar. Casil did not see anyone in or near it though. A stretch of unpathed island lead up to a long bridge lined with gargoyles, that then lead to the castle itself. The castle seemed to be made up of four or five separate parts, one of which Casil could see was collapsing slowly into the sea. Overhead, some sort of ragged hawk circled. Casil had the feeling the hawks weren’t  _ alive  _ though, perhaps some sort of necromancy construct. While she was curious, that wasn’t the reason they were there.

Serana took a deep breath, and Casil glanced at her. She pulled her journal out of her bag. ‘Nervous?’

Serana glanced at Casil, before nodding a little. “Yeah, just a bit. Let’s go though. No point in pushing it off more.” Serana lead the way, making her way across the bridge. Casil waited for Jenassa and Miraak, before following. Casil glanced uneasily at the gargoyles as they passed, but none of them made any movement or showed any signs of life. She let out a slight sigh of relief, sticking close to Miraak’s side. Even Jenassa seemed unnerved by the giant statues.

Casil was surprised to see someone guarding the gate at the end of the bridge. She had half expected the place to be somewhat abandoned. 

A older man squinted at them from behind the gate. “Eh? Begone! You’re not wanted here,” he grunted with a irritated wave of his hand. He paused though as Serana grew closer, before his eyes widened. “That… Ah! Lady Serana is here! Open the gates!” he cried.

Serana seemed to relax at that. “Thank you. It’s good to be home,” she said, giving the gatekeeper a nod of her head. She motioned for the other three to follow before the man tried to shoo them out too. Casil picked up her pace, giving the old man a squint. He did the same back, moving out of the way for the unusual party. 

Serana paused at the door, looking over her shoulder to the others. “Just… let me do the talking, okay?” She whispered with a pleading look, before she opened the doors and headed inside.

The doors swung open into a very grand and lavish hall below a small entry walkway. Two sets of stairs lead down from the entry to a large dining hall below, which had two long tables with a large chair at the back center of the two. Casil could see that the tables were covered in silver platters and goblets, and absolutely drenched in blood and various body parts. A whole  _ person  _ lay on the righthand table, between three or four vampires. Casil quickly counted at least a  _ dozen  _ vampires at the tables, and none of them looked particularly  _ weak. _

A altmer vampire standing at the top of the stairwell moved to stop them, before his eyes widened. He turned to the hall below him in an exaggerated spin. “Lady Serana is back!” He called. The sound of chattering from the vampires abruptly stopped, and the altmer turned back to Serana with a terrifying, toothy grin. “Ah, it has been so long Lady Serana! Right this way,” he said with a bow, heading down the stairs after giving Jenassa, Miraak and Casil a somewhat uneasy stare. “I’m sure your father will love to see you and your…  _ guests. _ ”

“Guests,” Serana repeated, following after the man. “Not  _ food.” _

He glanced back at her. “If you say so.”

Casil didn’t like that. She let Miraak walk behind Serana, but Jenassa let her pass between the two so she had someone on either side of her. She was suddenly not sure about being so… sure about fighting vampires. This wasn’t just one or two. This was an entire  _ clan,  _ certainly larger than any she’d ever seen. Maybe Miraak was right about her being too reckless.

The man sitting in the chair at the end of the hall stood up, a well dressed vampire with dark, short hair and a goatee. He took a few steps down from his elevated throne, red cape dragging behind him as he held a silver goblet loosely in one hand. “My long-lost daughter returns at last,” he said with a sweep of his free arm. “I trust you have my Elder Scroll?”

Casil watched Serana visibly stiffen. She couldn’t blame her. What a way to be treated after being gone. Casil stayed behind Miraak as the party stopped a little ways back, waiting just at the start of the tables while Serana approached her father. Casil tried to ignore the curious but clearly hungry stares of the other vampires at the tables, as well as the burning stares of the two deathounds that were lounging at the foot of one of the tables. The small bosmer woman tried her best not to reach out and grab Miraak for comfort. She hadn’t been this unnerved by so many people staring at her since the peace council, but back then at least she knew they all didn’t want to literally  _ eat  _ her. Jenassa put her hand on her sword, shooting the vampires a warning glare. They seemed to be more amused by that then anything. As always, Miraak did not seem to exude any particular emotion; he stood with his arms folded in front of Casil, eyes locked ahead on Serana’s father.

“After all these years,  _ that’s  _ the first thing you have to ask me?” Serana asked, trying to  _ laugh  _ it off, but it clearly struck a cord. She reached onto her back, removing the gold casing. “Yes, I have the scroll.”

Casil was still painfully curious as to  _ why  _ she had that, but she’d managed to avoid asking so far.

The man gave a coy smile. “Of course I’m  _ delighted  _ to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud?” he asked, sounded exasperated at the thought. “Ah, if only your traitor mother were here, I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike,” he mused, swirling the contents of his goblet. His eyes flicked to Miraak, then Casil, then Jenassa. “Now, tell me…” He took an idle stride forward, almost brushing Serana but keeping an almost uncomfortable amount of distance between himself and his daughter. His orange-yellow eyes scanned Miraak up and down, before he chuckled and grinned. “How did you come across this fragment of history? And who might the strangers behind him be?”

Casil glanced to Miraak. Did this vampire know who he was…? She couldn’t help but feel  _ shocked  _ at the idea, given how hard it was for  _ her  _ to figure out who the hell he was with a  _ name.  _

“These are the ones who saved me,” Serana said, turning to face them.

Miraak grunted, drumming his fingers against one of the metal bands on his arm. “You must be Harkon,” he said lowly. “Of the Volkihar clan.”

Lord Hakron’s grin widened. “Well, would you look at that. The First Dragonborn knows who I am! I must say, I am  _ flattered  _ even if you missed my  _ title,”  _ he admitted, dipping his head with a hand placed over his gold breastplate. “Your saviors, you say?” His eyes then flicked to Casil and Jenassa. “How…  _ fascinating.” _

Serana stiffened, before motioning to the other two. “Since… you seem to know who Miraak is,  this is Casil… she’s the  _ last  _ dragonborn, so I understand, and her guard, Jenassa,” Serana explained, making a motion to each.

Lord Harkon raised a brow. “The first  _ and  _ the last dragonborn? My, my… my daughter certainly was  _ lucky  _ to have been rescued by you. For her safe return, you have my gratitude,” he said, giving a sweeping bow. “As your priest here has said, my name is Harkon,  _ lord  _ of this court. By now, my daughter will have told you what we are.”

Casil gave a slight nod of her head, shooting a somewhat nervous glance at the body on the neighboring table. Gore and guts didn’t bother her, but she was really not liking the predatory stares on the other vampire’s faces. 

“You’re vampires,” Jenassa spoke up, tightening the hold on her sword.

Harkon  _ laughed.  _ “Not just vampires. We are among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim,” he said, sweeping his arm out to motion to those seated at the tables. “I see your little friend there is too afraid to even speak up for herself.”

“She’s mute,” Miraak grunted. 

Harkon raised a brow in surprise, eyeing Casil with a look of almost  _ discontempt.  _ She narrowed her eyes back at the man, but obviously said nothing. “I see. Well, none the less, you have returned that which I value most, after my wife’s betrayal,” he explained. 

Casil tugged on Miraak’s sleeve to get his attention. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she signed, uneasily glancing at the others. ‘I don’t like where any of this is going.’

One of the vampires snorted. Of course one of them would understand what she was saying, she thought begrudgingly. 

Miraak shifted his glance back to Harkon. “Then I assume there is nothing else for us to discuss.”

The vampire lord shook his head. “You have done me a great service, and you must be rewarded,” he insisted. Casil felt her skin crawl. “There is but one gift I can give that is equal to value in the Elder Scroll and my daughter,” he held out his wrist simply. “Take it, and you will walk as lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again. Even you, great dragonborn, will truly become something  _ fierce  _ and  _ feared. _ ” He looked to Casil. “Even though you may try to  _ look  _ like one, you could become something greater than even what you imitate.”

Miraak did not need to look to Jenassa and Casil to know their answers. “And if we refuse your ‘gift’?” 

Harkon narrowed his eyes. “Then you will be prey, like all mortals. I will spare your life this  _ once,  _ but you will be banished from this hall. Perhaps you still need convincing?” He idly set his goblet down, before whirling to face the three. “Behold, the power!” He snarled. His body contorted, before a red mist enveloped him. When it faded, a grotesque, blue-grey skinned monster stood before them. Adorned with gold and a pair of clawed wings, Harkon towered over even Miraak. His eyes locked on the three below. “This is the power that I offer! Now, make your choice!” 

Miraak shifted and put his hand on his sword, but did not draw it. Jenassa moved to protect Casil in case the beast attacked, fighting hard not to draw her’s.

“No. We refuse,” Jenassa snapped, glaring. “We have no interest in becoming vampires.”

Harkon narrowed his eyes at them, and Casil felt a slight pang of guilt when Serana flinched at Jenassa’s remark. “Then  _ be gone.  _ Should you set foot on this island again, you will not be spared,” he hissed, before turning to move back to his throne. 

Miraak turned sharply, grabbing Casil by the wrist before striding towards the exit. Jenassa followed up behind Casil defensively, glancing over her shoulder a few times to make sure they weren’t being followed. Casil threw one last look over her shoulder at Serana, frowning, before the three exited the castle.

 

Even after they had crossed the bridge, Casil kept looking as well to make sure the gargoyles hadn’t come to life or death hounds weren’t nipping at their heels.

“Good riddance,” Jenassa grumbled, throwing one last look back to the castle as well.

“We are  _ never  _ going back,” Miraak said lowly. “We were lucky to get a pass this time without fighting.”

“I don’t plan to, nor will I let Casil,” Jenassa said, only slightly relaxing once they hit the dirt of the far end of the island.

‘I don’t  _ want  _ to come back, trust me,’ Casil signed, shivering. Because next time  _ she’d  _ be the body on the table. She’d pass.

The three swiftly made their way towards the boat, more than happy to increase the distance between themselves and the blood-thirsty clan behind them. Jenassa clambered into the boat first, situating herself at the back with the oars. “Let’s get out of here, before they change their minds,” she said, wearily watching the bridge for any signs of movement.

Miraak nodded in agreement, moving to get into the boat. Casil did the same, keeping herself from looking over her shoulder anymore. She only allowed herself to look after the third time of throwing up, and the relief of the island shrinking into the distance almost made up for the seasickness.

 

The three were more than relieved to be on the mainland again, with Volkihar Keep far in the distance. They tied the boat back up at the small dock, taking a few minutes to get their bearings again.

“Hopefully they won’t be sending anyone after us,” Jenassa muttered, eyeing the distant shape of the castle.

Casil nodded, trying to focus on the stable shape of a shoreline rock to get her land legs. She furrowed her brow though. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the subtle disturbance of…  _ something  _ unusual in the water. She frowned, straightening herself out to walk over and investigate. Like bubbling, but not in the way that most animals would make. And it couldn’t be  _ boiling,  _ because it was only one point.

Miraak glanced at her as he went to untie his horse. “We are leaving, dragonborn. What are you doing?”

Casil made a motion to the disturbance, trying to find a rock she could use to get close and take a look.  She carefully walked out onto one, arms out for balance until she was at the edge. Miraak grunted, turning from his horse to head over to her. She bent over, putting her hands on her knees as she stared into the murky abyss. What was causing this…?

The darkness bubbled, a lot deeper then she was expecting. Her eyes narrowed, before something shifted below the surface.

Something pushed up from the depths and broke the surface in a frighteningly fast movement. Row after row of needle-like teeth lunged up at her, fish eyes staring her down as the Lurker came within inches of biting Casil’s face clean off. Casil jerked back in response, slipping on the rock in the process. The beast’s attack didn’t hit her straight on, but the Lurker still slammed into her full force.

“Casil-” Miraak began, before pain shot out through his back. He felt a blade twist, and undoubtedly it would have gone deeper if Jenassa hadn’t body slammed the attacker out of the way. He staggered forward, feeling like the wind had been punched out of him. His eyes locked on Casil as the Lurker hit her to the side with a claw, sending her into rocks.

_ Mora. _

Jenassa managed to plunge her sword through the Morag Tong assassin, shoving him to the ground before she whirled to the other two. Another lurker lunged out of the ocean near the ship, spitting a mouthful of acid at the two. Jenassa pushed Miraak out of the way, grimacing as some of the acid landed on the fringes of the armor. It sizzled loudly, smoke rising up out of it as the acid ate away at the dragonbone she wore.

Miraak tried to catch his breath, reaching around carefully to pull the dagger out of his back. He coughed, head spinning. It was poisoned, it had to have been poisoned. He cursed, staggering forward as he tried to keep his focus. 

Hermaeus Mora had just been  _ waiting.  _ And he got them off guard. His eyes darted around. At least two lurkers, an assassin, what looked to be seekers appearing around them…

He felt foolish for letting his guard down.

Casil winced in pain as she slid down the rock, feeling warm blood roll down the back of her head and chest from the beast’s claws. She threw up a ward as it spat a stream of acid at her, the projectile splattering and expanding over the ward as it blocked her from the attack. What was going on…? The fish-like monster lunged again, trying to get her with its many teeth. She managed to slide down out of the way of the teeth, but its body still ploughed into her. The bosmer found herself pinned between the rocks and the monster’s body, pain streaking out through her body. Claws lashed out to gore at her again, digging into her shoulder. Casil felt tears torrent down her cheeks as she gave a strangled scream, before she forced her other hand forward with a fireball. The fire landed against the beast’s chest, launching it back with a shower of scales and embers. Casil grabbed her wound as the lurker fell back into the sea from the attack, trying to stagger back to the shore. She made it only a few rocks in before she found herself face to face with a seeker. The tentacled monstrosity raised its hands emotionlessly, before Casil felt a force wave knock her off her feet and into the ocean.

The frigid ocean shocked Casil as she plunged into the waves. Her eyes stared widely up at the dimming light above, stinging from the salt. She caught movement, and quickly Casil weakly tried to kick back to the surface without use of one of her arms. Her head broke the surface for a gasp of breath, but it was short lived. The lurker she had knocked into the water grabbed her ankle, dragging her down below the waves once more.

Her magic did not work underwater. The beast dragged her further into the water, pulling her by her ankle. Panicked, Casil tried to kick it in the face. She managed to land a blow onto one of its eyes, causing it to let go long enough for her to break the surface again. Once more, the beast grabbed her, but this time a tendril emerged from the beast’s mouth to grab her other leg as it pulled her down again. 

Casil reached for her knife, before realizing her bag had been cut off of her sometime when the Lurker had initially been attacking her. She had nothing. No magic. No weapon. She struggled weakly, down to one arm as the lurker pulled her deeper into the arctic water. Her consciousness was slipping fast, between the cold, a lack of oxygen, and blood loss.

This was it, wasn’t it?

 

Miraak hit into the side of the house hard, causing glass to shatter as he made impact with it. He couldn’t breath. It felt like his lungs and the rest of his body was seizing up, and he couldn’t move fast enough to evade the seeker’s attack. Jenassa was trying her best to fight their adversaries, but she was losing. Badly. The acid had eaten through her armor and was working into her shoulder, and the woman could not do much now with her one sword arm through the pain. She had fallen back, trying to find a way to get between the seekers and Miraak. But the lurker was keeping her from making any headway, and was proving to be more than a match for her.

No. He could  _ not  _ lose to Mora like this. He could not  _ die  _ like this, period. He tried to push himself slowly up against the wall of the small shack, breathing haggard through his mask. He managed to push the mask off with a stiff movement, gasping for breath.

He couldn’t attack quick enough, not like this. He had lost sight of Casil. Jenassa would be dead in minutes at this rate. His mind raced for options as the seekers closed in on him. Another wave of attacks hit him back into the wall again, knocking his head back hard enough that he saw spots. He slid down, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

Why he chose him, Miraak would never know, but he was thankful anyways that the bastard bothered to answer his call.

“ _ Od Ah Viing!” _

He managed to get the shout out, before he was hit back against the wall with enough force to knock him unconscious.

 

The red dragon let out a mighty roar when he arrived, breathing a stream of fire over what he could only assume were his targets. The beasts writhed and backed away, a few disintegrating into amorphous masses of slime and cloth.

Odahviing circled back around, eyes scanning for either of the dragonborns. He spotted Miraak against the wall of the building, but the old dragonborn was making no movement. 

“The water!” Jenassa managed to cry, pointing out to the ocean. “She’s in the water!”

The dragon let out of stream of fire again at the seekers, before turning his head to the ocean. She was in the ocean…?

Ah, the lurkers. The dragon rumbled in his chest. 

He could turn away now, and let the two dragonborn die. Certainly, Miraak deserved it. But Casil…? He did not see a reason for her to die, despite it all. The small, mute dragonborn had proved herself, through and through. Odahviing tucked his wings into his body, before diving down into the water with a great splash. His body torpedoed through the waves, breaking clumps of ice at the surface as his spines broke it. He spotted the lurker with the girl’s bleeding, unconscious body in the weeds below. He used his claws to push off of a rock, lashing out with his teeth to crush the lurker in his jaws like wet paper. Throwing the battered fish beast aside, he carefully scooped Casil up in his mouth before breaking the surface again. 

The dragon waded to the shore, gently dropping Casil’s body in front of Jenassa. The woman had managed to get her armor off, and had pulled her undershirt off to hold it against her wound. She was crying, and in severe pain, but she dropped the rag when Casil was placed in front of her.

“Oh Divines no. Casil- Casil- “ She gasped, giving the woman a weak shake. Unsurprisingly, the bosmer had no response. 

Odahviing turned to make sure the last of the seekers were dead. He could not help the little dragonborn.

Jenassa leaned over to try to listen for breathing. Nothing. Jenassa cursed, fighting back tears. She pulled Casil’s tattered, soaked shawl off and tossed it to the side. “Stay with me, kid,” she breathed, trying to get Casil to spit up water. What was she even supposed to do? She’d seen people do this before, but only  _ seen.  _

And she knew she was losing time quickly. Her hands pressed against Casil’s chest, trying to get anything to happen. Nothing. Jenassa’s lips pursed, before leaned over and tried to blow air into the other elf’s lungs. Nothing. 

“Come on Casil. Come on Casil…” Jenassa choked. “You can’t give up on me now.” She put pressure on the bosmer’s chest again, and the small woman lurched. She coughed up water, gasping weakly for breath. “Oh thank the Divines,” Jenassa managed to breath, trying to sit the girl up so she could catch a breath. She was out, but she was alive and breathing. 

Odahviing slammed a tree to the ground, shattering it into shards. With ease, the beast snapped it into a few smaller pieces, before dropping them not far from Jenassa. Carefully, the dragon lit them on fire.

“Your enemies are gone,” he rumbled, eyes locking on Jenassa. 

She stared up at Odahviing, before giving him a weak nod. “Thank you…” she choked.

The red dragon moved to lay down by the fire, like a great wall to protect them.

Jenassa carefully set Casil up by the fire with what she had, before she limped to check on Miraak. The damn man was still alive, but she was thankful. With a little help from Odahviing, she managed to move him by the fire as well. 

Odahviing watched over them patiently. No, he liked the little dragonborn from what he knew of her. It’d be a shame to let her die.

 


	58. LVIII. Blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in the middle of moving over the draconic translations for this and listening to Pandora and "Hide & Seek" by Amber Run comes up and i'm like. Huh this is p accurate to the mood, dismissing why I know the title of that and the possibility of what this song might be. Until 3 minutes in and i'm half way through this conversation and fucking "MMMMMWATCHU SAYYYY" comes up and i'm crying ok no better song could have come up during Miraak and Odahviing's exchange let me tell you.

Miraak felt like he had swallowed a mouthful of wool when he slowly came to. Everything was stiff and hurt, and his head pounded in his skull like a drumbeat. It felt like there was a rock on his chest, and his body responded to his commands as slow as molasses. With a weak groan, the man opened his eyes. The night sky sparkled overhead, though it was hard to see from the blinding light of a giant bonfire that was next to him. Breaking the shape of smoke and stars though was the looming, scaly face of a dragon. 

Miraak lurched slightly, before hissing in pain at the movement. No, the gash in his back was still very real and there, as was… every other bruise and wound.

Odahviing chuckled, swishing just the very end of his tail. “So, the traitor is finally awake,” he rumbled.

Miraak slowly tried to sit up, placing a hand on his head as things spun more. 

“Take it easy,” he heard Jenassa said, hearing the woman shift as he squeezed his eyes shut from the blinding fire. He felt something soft be shoved behind his back so he could rest against it, and he grunted in response. 

“[Lot tahrodiis sonaak nunon jul mindin pah](-) _ ,”  _ Odahviing mused, giving Miraak a toothy  _ grin.  _

Miraak took a few deep breaths, trying to focus before he slowly let his eyes adjust to the fire to take in everything around him.

Jenassa pulled back, carefully sitting back down on the ground a few feet away. She was the first thing he focused on. 

He had never seen the woman worse for wear. She looked exhausted, and was wearing nothing more than her underclothing above her waist. She was holding a very bloody rag to her shoulder, which was half bandaged but from what wasn’t, Miraak could see the acid-eaten skin and muscle below. The acid had splashed up and onto part of her neck and spots on her face, where it hadn’t gotten as far or done as much damage but the nasty burns were still noticeable. She eyed him tiredly, wincing as she shifted the rag. 

He was surprised she was still alive, in all honesty.

He pushed himself up against what he realized was his pack, taking a few more painful exhales. Jenassa had, he realized, at least been kind enough to bandage him up and treat the worst of his wounds the best she could. She had thrown his shirt  back over him like a blanket, but now it had slid off to a pile at his stomach. He dismissed it, rubbing his eyes as he tried to fight the awful pain in his head. 

Jenassa shifted to get him a cup of water, carefully putting it in one of his hands before pulling back. “The poison hasn’t worn off all the way, i’d imagine. Take things slow. You’ve been through a lot,” she said, the pain evident in her voice.

He gave a very, very careful nod of his head before he gratefully brought the metal mug to his lips. He swallowed down the entire cup, thankful that it at least made his throat feel less like he had swallowed a mouthful of ash. What had happened again…?

Mora. That was right. They had reached the shore, and only moments later they had been attacked. Someone had stabbed him, and things had gotten quickly hazy after that. He must have called Odahviing in at some point, and he was frankly shocked the dragon had come at all or let him live.

What else had…

_ Casil. _

Miraak almost choked on the water, slamming the mug down hard enough to make poor Jenassa jump. His eyes darted around for the younger dragonborn, before he at last spotted her behind Jenassa. She was lying down, breathing he could see, but she was making no other movement. Jenassa had rolled her into her bedroll and placed her own on top of that, while Casil’s clothing hang on a few branches near the egregiously overdone bonfire that was several feet away. 

For the first time, Jenassa could tell that Miraak was actually  _ frightened  _ and  _ worried.  _ The man tried to push himself up, carefully moving to sit next to the smaller dragonborn.

Jenassa let him, in too much pain to help. “She’s… alive… but she hasn’t woken up. The lurker dragged her down under the water,” Jenassa said, moving so Miraak could sit down near Casil. 

The poor bosmer was pale, and shivering. Her lips were a bluish-purple, and despite her best efforts to bandage her and keep her warm Casil was still not in a good position. 

Miraak felt a hard twist in his chest, placing the back of his hand against her cold, clammy cheek. Hermaeus Mora had come frighteningly close to killing  _ both  _ of them in the one attack, with honestly very few minions. The damn daedra had waited patiently for the two to put their guards down after they had killed Alduin, and had nearly succeeded in exacting his revenge on both of them. He felt anger burn up in his chest. Hermaeus Mora had almost killed him. He had almost killed  _ Casil.  _

Jenassa reached out and put a careful hand on Miraak’s bare shoulder, causing the man to almost lurch to hit her. She gave him a firm stare. “She’s going to be fine, Miraak,” she said, before shifting to lay down. “I need to rest though, now that you’re up. If you think you can keep an eye on her,” Jenassa said.

Miraak managed a snort. “...Of course I can,” he muttered, looking back to the little dragonborn. Jenassa pulled over some loose pelt she’d taken off one of her horses, using it to prop her head up on before awkwardly trying to find some position comfortable enough to sleep in. The woman was out in a matter of minutes, absolutely exhausted.

 

Miraak very gingerly pulled Casil so her head rested in his lap, draping his shirt over his back as he cradled the unconscious girl. He had almost lost her. And he… was frightened by that thought. He had pushed off any sort of real commitment on how he felt about her, but now... He had to face it. He tried to adjust her bedroll to keep her warm, brow furrowed.

Odahviing watched him, neck craned to keep an eye on the two dragonborns. He said nothing, allowing the first dragonborn to be alone with his thoughts.

But there, very faintly, Miraak could feel a pulling. The same familiar tugging that formed in the pit of his chest when a dragon fell to his sword, a sort of  _ intoxicating  _ feeling that Miraak had managed to ignore when he was painfully close to the bosmer. But she was not doing well, and it was louder. 

A few months ago, he had wanted nothing more than to kill her to set himself free. Even after she had freed him herself, he had planned to kill her once Alduin had been slain… if the process hadn’t killed her in of itself.

Casil had almost died, thanks to Hermaeus Mora’s minions. And that scared him. He was growing  _ attached.  _ Attached to this pathetic excuse for a dragonborn, for this small, weak little  _ bosmer.  _ She was supposed to be nothing more than a prize, in some way or form. Seeing her so pale and hurt made his heart twist, and the very feeling made him hate himself.

His fingers found themselves at her thin, cold neck.

How hard would it be to rid himself of her right now? To finally have her soul for himself? To extinguish this lesser burden of a dragonborn, and to take all of her power for his? It was there, so close. The hum of her soul, and she could not fight him back, she couldn’t give him any of those damn  _ looks.  _ His bared his teeth, dark eyes narrowing as his fingers tightened slightly around her throat.

“[Vahzah, dovahkiin](-) _ , _ ” Odahviing rumbled lowly, watching him. Miraak’s eyes darted up to the beast, not loosening his grip on her neck. “[Dreh hi sahvot daar hi fen krii ek? Mindin nii pah? Fun zu’u, dovahkiin. Fun zu’u daar hi bo krii ek, voth nid vokun krosis ko siliil. Daar nii fen ni kren hi, daar hi fen ni luv ko ek nilass kopraan.](-) _ ” _

Miraak averted his gaze, looking back down to the woman in his arms. 

“[Hi aal sahvot daar hi nirel, nuz hi nis lo zu’u ahrk](-) _ …  _ how do you humans say it… say, that you do not…  _ care fah laat dovahkiin, Miraak. _ _ ” _

“[Nahlot,](-) _ ”  _ Miraak spat, gritting his teeth as he tightened his fingers around her fragile neck. “[Rek los nid wah zu’u.](-) ”

Odahviing hummed, swishing his long tail. “ [ _ Los daar ful? Ruz faas luftiil lost fod miiniil koraav nau ek, tiid vod, lost nid? Fah, orin fod hi qahnaar nii, drehiil fun zu’u daar hi fen nok tum laasiil spaan ek. Hi aal lost sil do dovah, Miraak, nuz hi los mulhaan joor mun. Joor mun wo sov bok ol gein, fod hi funt viik Alduin us. Ol lingrah ol hi mun, orin fod hi krif nii, hi mun ol pogaas ol hi los dovah. Hi yah fahdon, zeymahzin, wo med hi. Rul hi kriin ek, til fen kos nid dovahkiin. Hi fen kos ol gein, mahfaeraak. Orin mey koraav hi dreh ni laan daar. Govey haaliil nol rek, Miraak. Mu enook mindok daar rek los  _ revak  ](-) _[wah hi. Enook dovah mindok daar sahrot gruth sonaak sahlo fah ronitii](-). _ _ ”  _

“[Ol fod hi mindok, sunvaar](-) _ ,”  _ Miraak hissed, face contorting into a grimace.

Odahviing chuckled. “[Zu’u mindok pruzaan ruz hi dreh.](-) _ ”  _

Miraak loosened his grip slightly, mouth dry. Casil lay there limply, unaware of the conflict going on above her. “[Zu’u neh paar ek. Rek lost dir](-) _.”  _

Odahviing shifted, moving his head to just a few feet from Miraak. Hot breath ruffled Miraak’s shirt, causing him to glance to the beast. “[Nid, Miraak. Deziil dir. Nii zeim funtiil ahrk folaasiil daar hi nu lahney, laat dovahkiin aus fah niin. Nii fah daar funtiil ahrk folaasiil, ahrk paariil, kahiil, pahlokiil, daar hi los nid kinbok. Alduin ahrk hi los ni ved-sot.](-) _ ”  _

Miraak glared at the dragon before him, jaw visibly tensed. “[Ahrk nu, hi lost ni kriaan zu’u.](-) _ ” _

Odahviing chuckled again, pulling his head away. “[Zu’u aal nu.](-) _ ”  _ He folded his great wings closer to his body, resting his head on the ground. “[Nuz, laat dovahkiin fen luv ahst grik saan. Motmahus mindol haalvut fah hi, zu’u mindok.](-) _ ” _

Miraak let his gaze fall to the bosmer. She was still out, but she seemed to have at least shifted a bit more than earlier.  _ “[Rek nis orin tinvaak hi. Hi aam ek nid mir](-). _ _ ” _

“[Golahiil sizaan zu’u](-) _ , _ _ ”  _ Odahviing grumbled, shifting again. “Then, perhaps, I should speak in your own tongue for you to better understand.”

Miraak bared his teeth at the insult, but Odahviing did not let him respond. 

“I owe  _ you  _ nothing. I care not for you, Miraak. No, I would rather wish you dead. No matter the side I may stand on, I will always  _ despise  _ what you have done, and what you  _ are.  _ But for all your faults, I admire your  _ successor  _ for all that she has fought through, for what she  _ can  _ do. I would rather serve praise to the dragonborn who had the  _ courage  _ to face and slay Alduin, instead of the  _ coward  _ she has to rely on,” he hissed, scales bristling. “I answered your call in the case  _ she  _ needed my help. I would have been more then  _ happy  _ to have left you to die, traitor. Perhaps I still will. But the dovahkiin has left you alive for some reason, and I trust her choice in that… for now.”

Miraak, for once, found himself at a loss for words. The anger bubbled up and stuck in his throat as he glared at the dragon. Angry replies welled up, but none managed to leave his mouth. How  _ badly  _ he wanted to beat the dragon into submission, into his place, but Miraak knew he wasn’t in the position to do that even with the assistance of Bend Will.

And what made him angrier yet, was in all of the dragon’s words the damnable beast was  _ right.  _

His shoulders slouched in silent defeat, letting his gaze drop to the younger dragonborn again. He brushed a strand of ashen hair out of her face with a tired sigh, before gently resting her head back on the bedroll as he got up. The man shifted to find some rocks to set by the fire, that he would eventually move near Casil to help keep her warm without placing her next to Odahviing’s precarious full tree bonfire. The beast watched him, relaxing his head down once more. 

No matter how tough and cruel he could be, Odahviing couldn’t help but be amused by the  _ adoration  _ Miraak seemed to have for the little underdog. He watched as the old dragonborn waited next to her, checking Casil’s wounds before carefully healing them with magic. Healing her, before himself, before Jenassa. Once the rocks had been warmed up, he carefully moved them next to Casil, making sure they wouldn’t burn her or overheat her. When at last she seemed to be faring a little better, the man tended to himself.

Odahviing let out a long yawn, causing the dragonborn to finally glance at him again. Maybe Casil would do him some good. Odahviing doubted she’d never be able to really change him for the better, but at least she might be able to stop him from becoming what Odahviing expected him to become.

 

Casil slowly awoke to the sound of the ocean crashing up against the rocks, the sound of seagulls cawing overhead, the crackling of fire, and the gentle feeling of warm breath against the crook of her neck. Things slowly pieced themselves together through a fog, and she weakly shifted in Miraak’s arms. The man shifted as well, propping himself up on one arm to check her when she turned to look back at him. One of his hands reached up to gently brush her cheek, making her slowly try to focus her eyes on his face. The light from the fire behind him was almost blinding, even if the sun was starting to climb up on the horizon. 

“Go back to sleep,” Miraak whispered, placing his lips against her temple before returning to resting beside her. “You need to rest.”

Casil carefully turned in his arms, shakily bringing her hands up to her chest. She winced, trying to recall what had happened. The last thing she had remembered was the lurker dragging her deeper into the depths. If Odahviing wasn’t watching her from behind the fire, she might have thought they were dead. She let out a weak sigh of relief, burying her face into Miraak’s bare chest. The man stiffened a bit, before slowly relaxing as he tightened her grip on her.

‘Sorry,’ she signed against his chest, biting her lower lip.

The nord was silent, but she could feel his fingers tense a little against her bare back. She tensed in response, taking a sharp inhale at the pain. But he let out a gentle sigh against the top of her head. 

“Sleep, Casil,” he muttered, placing another kiss on top of her head. “You… did nothing wrong.”

She closed her eyes with a small nod. She brought her hands up again, but let them simply fall limp against his chest before she slowly dozed off again.

 

She finally rose again when the sun had fallen across where they had been sleeping, and a chance breeze sent some of the ashes from the long-dead fire in her direction. She shifted slowly, very carefully pushing herself up to look around. Odahviing had moved to perch on top of the house, much to the horse’s dismay. His head was turned back and hidden somewhere on his back, like some sort of strange bird. The fire had long since gone out, but Jenassa had started a much smaller one to the side and seemed to be cooking food. Her shoulder, arm and chest were well bandaged up, and across from her sat Miraak. He had put his robe back on, hiding the bandages on his own chest that Casil faintly recalled from her brief moments awake the night before. Once she’d managed to get herself into a sitting position, she glanced down at her own bandages. The covered the bulk of her chest, shoulder and arm as well. Miraak must have healed her at some point for them to be hurting less then she’d been expecting. 

“You’re awake,” Jenassa said with a sigh of relief, carefully poking food on the fire with her good arm. “How are you feeling?”

Casil grimaced. ‘Not great. Are you two okay…?’ She had not seen what had happened to either of them. 

“I’ve had better days,” Jenassa grunted, trying to hide her pain. “I think Miraak could say the same.”

The older dragonborn turned his head to glance at Casil. “I’m  _ alive. _ ”

Casil nodded slightly, trying to spot her where her clothing had gone off to. It was laying out on a rock, though her shawl was looking worse for wear. Awkwardly, Casil slid out of her bedroll, moving to grab the rest of her clothing. She felt stiff and frankly  _ awful,  _ but there was no use loitering around. She felt uneasy still being so close to the water.

When at last Casil had her clothing on, she took a seat around the small fire. Jenassa carefully handed her some water and a little food she had cooked up, giving the woman some space to wake up and collect herself.

‘What happened?’ Casil asked finally, looking to the two.

“Hermaeus Mora attacked us,” Miraak said lowly, throwing a somewhat weary glance at the sea. 

Casil paused in the middle of eating, and her face darkened. So it was him. ‘Why now?’

Miraak shook his head. “I do not know. Perhaps because we weren’t expecting it. And he almost succeeded in killing us.”

Jenassa flipped some of the food over on the small rock she was using to cook it. “He sent two lurkers, a assassin, and at least five seekers. It wasn’t too many enemies, but it was enough.”

Casil grimaced. ‘So you called Odahviing?’ Casil asked, glancing to Miraak.

He hesitated, before nodding. 

“If it weren’t for the dragon, we would all be dead,” Jenassa muttered. “The knife the assassin managed to stab Miraak with was poisoned, and the other lurker got me good,” she said.

She would have to thank the dragon, Casil thought. She fell quiet, using her hands to drink and eat again for a few minutes before she lifted them to talk. ‘So what’s the plan now?’ Neither Jenassa nor Miraak gave her an answer. She raised a brow. ‘Should we return to Fort Dawnguard then?’

Miraak narrowed his eyes at the suggestion. “If you wish to tell them about Serana.”

She shrugged. ‘We may as well. What else would we do?’

“Drop it and back out before it gets worse. It’s clear we have a bigger pressing problem right now,” Miraak replied, resting his elbows on his knees. 

Casil frowned. ‘I don’t know if there’s much we can  _ do  _ about our problem. If anything, hanging around Fort Dawnguard might be  _ safer.  _ We won’t be as isolated.’

“We won’t either if we return to my temple, but instead we won’t have to deal about possible  _ vampire  _ attacks.”

For once, Jenassa almost had to agree with Miraak. “Lord Harkon made it clear he wouldn’t let us off the hook again. I’m not sure if we should get wrapped up in that, Casil. You seemed nervous being in the room with them as it was.”

Casil knitted her brow together. ‘Then why don’t we just move into a city and never do anything interesting again?’

“If that’s what you wish, then so be it,” Miraak replied blandly.

Casil threw him an incredulous look. ‘I was being sarcastic. I can’t just sit around and do nothing with my life now.’

“I’m not not asking you to,” Miraak snapped. “I’m asking you not to throw yourself into more danger then you already are in. It’s clear Hermaeus Mora is waiting for chances to strike, and if we let our guard down or separate i’m sure he will have no issues picking us off. He’s already made it abundantly clear that he’s more than capable of doing it.”

Jenassa shifted, pulling the food off the fire before splitting the remainder between herself and Miraak. “I’m afraid I have to agree with Miraak,” she said, carefully leaning back against her bag. “All of us nearly died, Casil. If Miraak hadn’t managed to call Odahviing, there’s no doubt Mora would have succeeded with little effort. I would not be surprised if he starts doubling his efforts, now that he’s shown that he will still attack you two here on Nirn.”

Casil gritted her teeth, but they were right. She sighed and hung her head. ‘Fine. We go back to Fort Dawnguard, inform them of Serana and the Elder Scroll, and then…’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. We figure out what we can do about Mora.’ If there was anything that  _ could  _ be done about him. Casil was sure there was no way to kill him or stop him, so it simply came down to being as prepared for his attacks as they could be.

Jenassa nodded, looking to Miraak. “Then that settles it?”

Miraak nodded as well, taking a bite of his food. “I don’t want you to leave our sights, Casil. Not until we understand Hermaeus Mora’s attacks better.”

Casil shrunk down a bit, but reluctantly she gave her own nod. Divines knew she couldn’t hold off a surprise attack like that on her own.

The party ate and carefully tried to pack their horses again, ultimately leaving Miraak to do most of the packing. Wearily, Casil and Jenassa carefully found where Casil’s bag had fallen in the rocks and water when she had been attacked. To Casil’s absolute horror, her journal and most of the contents inside of her bag were badly damaged. Odahviing agreed to watch them on their way back to the Fort, before he would part his own way again. 

 

The ride was long, and even with a dragon watching over them they were uneasy. Casil hadn’t felt this nervous about traveling since she’d first witnessed Alduin attacking Helgen a year prior. 

Leaves fell from their branches as they neared the fort, reminding Casil that it had really been a full year since everything had started. And only perhaps a month since it had ended. 

Divines, a lot had happened. Casil felt like everything had taken years to unfold, while all happening in a fraction of a second. 

Miraak sent a few messages through couriers to his followers as they passed through a few of the bigger towns along the way. Casil couldn’t help but wonder what would happen now. The Dawnguard had turned out to delve into much more than she’d expected, and Miraak seemed to be in full protection mode now. She had managed to pick up a few parts of his conversation with Odahviing one night, and from what she very vaguely understood, the man had planned to take her ‘home’, which she assumed were the ruins they’d previously visited. He would probably just hole up in there, she bitterly thought. He seemed good at that. She wished she could understand more of the conversation, but her journal was ruined. The pages had turned to mush, ripping and crumpling when she tried to dry it out. The ink or charcoal had bled and washed off, and years upon years of work had been destroyed. Miraak could translate all of it anyways, but it was a tough blow to Casil. Among the translations had been other notes, and memories, and quick sketches of places she’d been. Memories she’d had with Sterlas, and various bits of information that would just be lost to time now.

Casil was simply  _ grumpy  _ and  _ unhappy  _ for a majority of the ride back to Fort Dawnguard. She had been hoping that after waking up in Miraak’s arms after the attack that he might sleep by her more, but that was not the case. He slept close, but it was clearly more for protection then it was for any other reason. In fact, he slept with his sword in between them instead of on the other side of himself. Casil almost felt like it was a warning not to try to get close.

Things seemed to be looking up between them for a matter of moments, and it seemed to crumble again. He wasn’t  _ aggressive  _ towards her like he had been before, but Casil felt like he was trying to push her away again. Why bother to protect her then? Was he worried that Mora might get ahold of her? She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to ponder on it. Everything was frustrating and once she thought she had it figured out or that it was looking up, something would take a turn for the worst and send them plummeting back down into…  _ this.  _ Into not talking to each other, being snappy, being unsure and pushing each other around.

The trip back took much longer than it had to get out there thanks to their wounds, though as each day passed Miraak and Casil both did their best to use their magic to heal the collective injuries. Things were getting better, but they would all be left with very obvious scarring from their encounter with Mora’s servants. 

Another stab wound in the back from Miraak’s former teacher, Casil mused. She wondered how many more times the daedric prince would back stab him before one of the blows finally managed to kill the nord. Maybe that’s where Mora underestimated them, in how simply resilient the two were. They’d both survived things that should have flat out killed them. 

 

The night before they arrived at the Fort, Casil climbed her way up to the rocky perch Odahviing had settled himself on. The dragon had taken to resting a little ways from the camp, but close enough that Miraak and Jenassa were apparently comfortable enough letting Casil visiting without either of their companies.

Odahviing rumbled in his chest as Casil found a rock to sit on near him, raising a wing up to give her some space. “ _ Drem Yol Lok, mal dovahkiin… _ ” he said, in a certain cadence that Casil hoped meant he was in the mood for talking. Casil pulled a small stick of chalk she’d managed to salvage out of her bag, hoping it would still write well enough on the stone for the dragon to read. 

‘Thank you for saving us,’ Casil wrote in great big letters on a flat stone, hoping Odahviing could see it. 

Odahviing let out a hum after he scanned the letters. “I told you that I would come if you needed my assistance. And I did,” he replied simply.

‘But Miraak called, not me. I figured you hated his guts.’

The dragon chuckled. “I do. But I figure that wherever he is, you are not far.”

‘So you came because of me?’

“To put it simply, yes.”

Casil frowned as she used her shawl to wipe the rock clean. It was trashed enough anyways that she’d need to replace it even if she didn’t use it as an eraser. ‘Why? I can’t even summon you myself. I’m hardly a dragonborn, or worth your effort.’

Odahviing considered her words for a minute, looking the tiny woman over from down his snout. “No, you do not have a thu’um like other dragons do. No, by most dragon’s standards, you have little power by that regard, but,” he gave his red scales a shake. “I have found that your power comes from the tenacity to continue fighting against all odds. That although everything has been stacked against you, you still outwit and defeat it. You were brought into this world with no hope of  _ winning  _ against your fate, handed a destiny that you could not overcome with what you were given. And yet, you still found a way to conquer it.” His face came to rest inches from Casil’s a low rumble reverberating from his maw. “And for that, I admire you,  _ mal dovahkiin.  _ Though others may look down on you for your lack of thu’um, you have proven that you do not need one to be powerful.”

Casil found herself at loss for words as she gazed into the dragon’s dark grey eyes. She swallowed hard, taking a deep inhale. For what Casil thought might be the first time since all of this started, and certainly had ended, someone had not seen her inability to shout not as a weakness. That he addressed what everyone else had beaten her down for, that Miraak berated her for, that she felt like the rest of the world was disappointed she was unable to do.

Casil reached out and threw her arms around the dragon’s face, a bit to his surprise. She closed her eyes tight as she pressed her face to his scaly snout. He allowed her to hold onto him for a few seconds, before he gently pulled back. 

“Miraak may give you grief for your flaws, dovahkiin,” the dragon spoke, “but do not let his words get to you. You succeeded in doing what he could not even with his voice, and for that he is angry.”

With that, the dragon settled back into his previous place, turning his head from where Casil had been writing. She bowed her head to the dragon, looking back to the camp where the other two sat. She remained near Odahviing for a little while longer, considering the beast’s words. 

 

She had never seen Miraak’s actions that way. She had always assumed he was simply mad that she was weak and not a worthy rival. But hadn’t she proved she was? Because she was still there. She had broken him free when he couldn’t break himself free. She had helped to slay Alduin without shouting once. 

He was supposed to slay Alduin, thousands of years ago. When he was the only one of his kind. When he could have altered history and been hailed as a hero. And he messed up. He couldn’t free himself from his prison, and despite thousands of years and access to infinite knowledge it had been  _ Casil  _ who set him free.  _ Casil  _ who gave him the last word he needed.  _ Casil  _ who lead him to finally defeat Alduin.

Why did she let him push her around so much? Because he had taught her that she was  _ less  _ than him. That because she was a fraction his age, a fraction his size, and lacked a voice, she was weaker. Miraak had been belittling her since their first interaction, through a note carried on a pair of cultists that attacked her out of the blue one day.

Casil wondered if he was afraid of her, in any way. Afraid of someone else who could push him in his place. Afraid of someone who could do as much as him without one of his biggest strengths. 

Casil wondered if he was afraid of someone else who could eat his soul.

She did not know of these were actually the reasons. Certainly, she was sure she’d never know. Miraak would never admit to them if they were true, so there was no point to asking because true or not she’d get the same answer.

But Odahviing had left her with some very sobering thoughts. Validation that she’d needed to hear a long time ago, but was thankful that it was  _ ever  _ said to her. Even long past the sunset, Casil sat in the dragon’s shadow as the ancient beast quietly watched over the group from his perch on the rocks.

 

They reached Fort Dawnguard by the next evening. Odahviing had parted his own way once they had reached the cave that lead to the valley the old structure resided in, leaving the three to travel in on their horses alone.

As the group neared the fort, Casil could hear the sound of fighting. And distinctly she could tell it wasn’t just sparring, but actual  _ fighting.  _ She bit her lip, nudging Maehaur to move faster. 

“What is it?” Miraak asked, frowning behind his mask.

“Fighting,” Jenassa replied, hearing it as well. Her horse picked up its pace to follow Casil and Maehaur, and Jenassa drew her bow.

Fire ignited in Casil’s hand as she neared, urging Maehaur to start into a charge. The horse ploughed up the hill with a thunder of hoofbeats that were swiftly followed by Miraak and Jenassa, until they broke past the gate and into the courtyard.

A handful of vampires were scattered in what had normally been a small camp. A few bodies lay here and there, while the breton she’d seen at the door earlier, whose name she’d learned as Celann, Durak, and a handful of others fought back against their attackers.

Maehaur knocked into a vampire, sending the surprised fledgling to the ground. Casil hurled a fireball at another vampire, knocking them to the ground in an explosion of cinders. Jenassa helped with a flurry of arrows, and Miraak drew his sword to help finish off those who had fallen or any that got too close to Casil. The vampires had not been expecting the back up, and in a few minutes the three helped the Dawnguard finish off the remaining vampires.

Once they were sure the vampires were dead, Casil dismounted her horse and carefully tied him up. 

“Came just in time,” Durak said between a few pants, leaning on his war axe.

“Was that all of them?” Jenassa asked, sliding off of her horse as well. 

“That we know of,” Celann replied, moving to stand by Durak. “We thought you might be dead, since you disappeared after heading to the crypt.”

Casil shook her head, heading up the path to the fort. ‘A lot happened.’

Miraak was the last to dismount and tie up his horse, but he was the first to reach Casil again. “We will be discussing it shortly with Isran,” he said, making sure Casil didn’t get too far ahead on her own.

The Dawnguard members left the three to report to their leader, moving to dispose of the bodies and ensure their fort was secured after the attack. Jenassa threw a look over her shoulder, before catching up beside Miraak and Casil.

“I’m surprised they’re already being attacked,” she said, dropping her voice to almost a whisper.

“The vampires may not be related to Harkon and his spawn,” Miraak grunted. “But we are  _ not  _ staying around to find out. Is that clear?” he asked, directing his question mostly towards Casil.

She nodded though. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to get tangled in this either now.

The group made their way into Fort Dawnguard, and after a little looking they managed to track Isran down.

The redguard seemed surprised to see them. “And here I thought you might be dead. So, any luck? Was Tolan right about the vampires being interested in Dimhollow Crypt?” He asked, glancing at them from where he sat at a table.

Casil move to stand next to the table, but did not sit down. She simply nodded.

Isran glanced at her companions, eyeing their obvious wounds. “Good. I assume you took care of that little infestation,” he said, motioning to Casil’s torn up garb. She glanced at it, unsure of how he thought that was made by a vampire, but she wouldn’t fill him in on the actual cause. “Did you figure out what they were looking for in there?”

‘It seems they were looking for someone in there,’ Casil said with a shrug.

Isran frowned. “That doesn’t make much sense. Where, and who were they looking for?”

Casil stiffened a bit. ‘A woman named Serana. We took her to her home north of Solitude,’ Casil replied after a moment of hesitation.

Hesitation Isran noticed. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “She must have something to do with the vampires, or have something they want.”

‘Well, she  _ was  _ a vampire if that helps,’ Casil added idly.

Isran grunted. “That would fit with the rest of it… I don’t like it, but you did right to play along. We need to find out what this is all about.” He got up out of his chair.

‘She also had a Elder Scroll.’

Isran had hardly caught Casil’s gestures, and had to ask for her to repeat the gesture to  make sure he had read it right. “By the Divines, this couldn’t get much worse,” he cursed, looking the three over. “This is more than you and I can handle.” 

“Which is why we are  _ leaving  _ now,” Miraak interjected, reaching out to grab Casil by her unwounded shoulder.

Isran seemed surprised, raising a brow. “Backing out now once it starts getting really dangerous, huh? I wouldn’t expect that from the dragonborn,” he mused, putting his hands on his hips.

Casil gritted her teeth. ‘Things came up on our end that we need to deal with. We can’t juggle vampires and this at the same time.’ Which wasn’t a lie, really.

Isran seemed disappointed. Casil was tired of that kind of look. “I suppose I can’t convince you to stay then,” he said, eyeing Miraak in particular.

“No. We are  _ leaving.”  _

Isran sighed, pursing his lips. “Then do know that you will always be welcome back. Divines know we could use strong and knowledgeable fighters like yourselves here. If you managed to solve your own problem, of course.”

Casil turned to start walking away, hoping Miraak would follow before he got snappy with the Dawnguard leader. The nord hesitated, staring Isran down from behind his mask before he followed. Jenassa left last, letting the two dragonborn get ahead before throwing Isran a somewhat apologetic look before following her companions.

Isran watch them leave, before shaking his head. Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Lot tahrodiis sonaak nunon jul mindin pah** \- The great treacherous dragon priests is only a man after all.
> 
>  **Vahzah, dovahkiin, dreh hi sahvot daar hi fen krii ek? Mindin nii pah? Fun zu’u, dovahkiin. Fun zu’u daar hi bo krii ek, voth nid vokun krosis ko siliil. Daar nii fen ni kren hi, daar hi fen ni luv ko ek nilass kopraan.** -Truly, dragonborn, do you believe that you will kill her? After it all? Tell me, dragonborn. Tell me that you are going to kill her, with no shadow of sorrow in your soul. That it will not break you, and that you will not cry over her lifeless body. 
> 
> **Hi aal sahvot daar hi nirel, nuz hi nis lo zu’u ahrk** \- You may believe that your are indomitable, but you cannot lie to me
> 
>  **Nahlot. Rek los nid wah zu’u** \- Silence. She is nothing to me.
> 
>  **Los daar ful? Ruz faas luftiil lost fod miiniil koraav nau ek, tiid vod, lost nid? Fah, orin fod hi qahnaar nii, drehiil fun zu’u daar hi fen nok tum laasiil spaan ek. Hi aal lost sil do dovah, Miraak, nuz hi los mulhaan joor mun. Joor mun wo sov bok ol gein, fod hi funt viik Alduin us. Ol lingrah ol hi mun, orin fod hi krif nii, hi mun ol pogaas ol hi los dovah. Hi yah fahdon, zeymahzin, wo med hi. Rul hi kriin ek, til fen kos nid dovahkiin. Hi fen kos ol gein, mahfaeraak. Orin mey koraav hi dreh ni laan daar. Govey haaliil nol rek, Miraak. Mu enook mindok daar rek los revak wah hi. Enook dovah mindok daar sahrot gruth sonaak sahlo fah ronitii.** \- Is that so? Then the fear your face had when your eyes lay sight on her, moments ago, was nothing? Because, even if you deny it, your actions tell me that you will lay down your life to defend her. You may have the soul of a dragon, Miraak, but you are still a mortal man.A mortal man who spent ages as one, when you failed to defeat Alduin before. As long as you are a man, even if you fight it, you are a man as much as you are a dragon. You seek a friend, a companion, who is like you. If you slay her, there will be no dragonborn. You will be as one, forever. Even a fool sees you do not want that.Remove your hand from her, Miraak. We all know that she is sacred to you. Every dragon knows that the mighty betraying dragon priest is weak for his rival.
> 
>  **Ol fod hi mindok, sunvaar** \- As if you’d know, beast.
> 
>  **Zu’u mindok pruzaan ruz hi dreh.** \- I know better then you do.
> 
>  **Zu’u neh paar ek. Rek lost dir** \- I never desired her. She was to die.
> 
>  **Nid, Miraak. Deziil dir. Nii zeim funtiil ahrk folaasiil daar hi nu lahney, laat dovahkiin aus fah niin. Nii fah daar funtiil ahrk folaasiil, ahrk paariil, kahiil, pahlokiil, daar hi los nid kinbok. Alduin ahrk hi los ni ved-sot.** \- It is through your failures and mistakes that you still live, and the last dragonborn suffers for them. It is for those failures and mistakes, and your ambition, your pride, your arrogance, that you are no leader. Alduin and you are not black-and-white.
> 
>  **Ahrk nu, hi lost ni kriaan zu’u.** \- And yet, you have not slain me.
> 
>  **Zu’u aal nu. Nuz, laat dovahkiin fen luv ahst grik saan. Motmahus mindol haalvut fah hi, zu’u mindok.** \- But the last dragonborn will cry at such a loss. A difficult thought to grasp for you, I know.
> 
>  **Rek nis orin tinvaak hi. Hi aam ek nid mir.** \- She can’t even speak to you. You serve her no allegiance.
> 
>  **Golahiil sizaan zu’u** \- Your stubbornness loses me.


	59. LIX. Wilder Mind

Casil felt like she shouldn’t be surprised to find a full camp of cultists outside her house when they arrived. She  _ was _ , however, surprised and mildly mortified that they had a key to her house, and had been using it as well while she had been gone. At least five tents had been set up at various places throughout her yard, and the cultists seemed quite happy to see Miraak’s arrival until Casil threw a fit.

‘What do you  _ mean  _ you gave them a key to my house, and told them they could use it?’ Casil signed angrily at Miraak as the cultists took their horses.

The nord folded his arms, staring her down. “We are staying here until we can comfortably make the trip back to my temple, so I might as well have them make use of your house,” he said, not at all phased. 

Casil shot him a glare, satting his chest with a hand. ‘Ask me next time before you let a bunch of strangers into my house. There’s a lot in there I don’t trust people with,’ she signed, folding her arms when she was done before storming inside. They better not have touched any of her things. A few cultists scurried out of her way as she shoved past them, glaring at each and every one of them. She made her way upstairs, carefully inspecting to make sure certain things hadn’t been touched, broken or stolen, before she angrily shut herself in her room. Exasperated, Casil finally took off her ruined clothing and tossed it to the side, making a mental note thats he’d finally have to get a new shawl or robe to enchant. She flopped carefully onto her bed, angrily rolling up into the sheets. 

She couldn’t believe he’d just let them in. This was  _ her  _ house, not  _ his.  _ He couldn’t just let his ragtag band use it like this. She’d have to shoo them off at some point, or at least set the ground rules when she wasn’t so tired and didn’t  _ hurt  _ as much. The gash the lurker had given her still ached despite several days of healing magic, and it was getting to that phase where it  _ itched.  _ She tried to ignore it, rolling onto her side with a glare at the inside of her sheets. She could hear the clatter of dishes downstairs as the various cultists scrambled to make their leader food, no doubt groveling to their oh-so-great master. Suddenly, it all put her back into a very bad mood. 

Odahviing’s words had really stuck with her over, and suddenly all of Miraak’s actions came back into just being very irritating and unnecessary. He was so  _ full of himself.  _ She was feeling herself get moody thinking about it. 

Casil heard the doorknob turn, followed by the soft creak of the hinges and then the gentle click of it closing again. If that was anyone but Jenassa, she was going to punch them good. She peered out from under her covers angrily, orange eyes glowing softly in the darkness.

Miraak took off his mask, setting it down on the dresser before walking over. Of course. She pulled the sheet over her head again, wishing she could growl at him or something to express her displeasure at the man. She heard him unhooking his armor, and she folded her arms tightly across her chest. Oh no, if he thought he could climb into bed with her he was very much mistaken. She felt his weight push the bed down, and before he could do more then sit she pushed to headbut him in the side.

The nord grunted, raising an arm as she almost managed to knock him to the ground. “Let  me talk at least,” he grumbled, pulling the sheet back so he could see her. He at least had the audacity to keep his pants on, she thought as she glared at him. 

‘I’m not interested. Go away,’ she signed angrily at him.

“Kicking me out of my own room?”

Casil looked floored. ‘ _ Your own room?  _ This is  _ my  _ room, and my room only. You can go sleep out with your hoard.’ She tried to shove him again, but he carefully stopped her. The man grabbed her, wrestling her into a hold before flopping down onto the bed with her. He pulled the squirming woman close, who finally reluctantly gave up and let him hold her. She pouted up at him, still angry.

Miraak scanned her face, before giving a low chuckle. “If it makes you less  _ angry  _ I suppose, I told them to repair the book tower,” he offered.

The angry look on her face did disappear. Oh. But the look creeped back into her face. ‘That won’t just make up for the fact that you’re treating this place like it’s yours, when it’s  _ mine. _ ’

He hummed, studying her before looking rather apathetic to her comment. “You haven’t driven them off yet, and you’re letting me stay here now, aren’t you?”

Casil stared at him, before giving him a good shove. To her surprise, she managed to knock the man off the bed. He hit the ground with a loud grunt, and Casil resisted every urge to check on him. Instead, she reached one hand over the bed to flip him off.

Miraak took advantage of that and grabbed her wrist, pulling her off the bed and onto his chest. They both winced as she landed on him with a segment of the sheet, but neither could hide a slight smirk at the action. He adjusted himself on the wood floor, wrapping his arms around her again as she rested her head against his shoulder.

“Mm, so you wanted me to sleep outside like a dog?” He mused, resting his head back against the ground as he stared up at the ceiling.

‘I wasn’t expecting you to get so sentimental all of the sudden,’ Casil signed, making sure he turned his head to catch what she was saying.

His gaze faltered slightly, before it returned to the unlit chandelier that hung above Casil’s room. “I’m not.”

Casil sort of snorted, spelling ‘lie’ onto his chest. He hummed, his fingers fiddling with a piece of Casil’s bandages. “You didn’t answer my question.”

She shrugged, before using a hand to prop herself up. She looked down at him, and his gaze met her’s. She pointed to her bed, before pointing to the wall to motion to the neighboring room. 

“So you’d rather I share a room with your bodyguard. How  _ demeaning,  _ “ he said, feigning a pout. 

She rolled her eyes, pushing her hair out of her face with a shrug before pointing to the door. 

Miraak hummed again, before pulling her back on top of his chest. “You weren’t complaining about having me in your bed in the past. In fact, you seemed to  _ enjoy  _ it rather.”

Casil frowned, shifting in his arms so she could reply. ‘Because you pretend that I mean nothing and flake on me the next day,’ she signed angrily, feeling the irritation start to climb again.

“Because I don’t, and I have things to do,” he replied simply with a shrug of his own.

‘If you were trying to get me to share my bed with you, you’re not doing a good job of it.’ She pushed herself off of his chest, sitting up with a scowl.

“I didn’t think it mattered that much to you,” he mused.

Casil scoffed. ‘I thought  _ I  _ made it ‘abundantly clear’ to you how i’ve felt, but you just keep shoving it off,’ she signed. ‘You don’t get to not care about me and expect me to be happy serving up everything I have to you in return.’

Miraak hummed, bringing an arm behind his head to prop it up. “Oh, but I can and I have.” 

Casil fumed. The  _ nerve.  _ ‘And i’m done with that. You’ve pushed me around enough. The least you could do is try to have a half normal relationship with me.’

Miraak grunted. “We aren’t normal people, Casil. I don’t see why we should bother.” He idly closed his eyes, clearly not that interested now that Casil was getting upset. 

Casil pulled herself off of him, giving him a firm kick in the side before stomping to the other side of the bed. When Miraak finally got up, she glowered at him. ‘Get out of my room, Miraak. You can sleep outside with your lackeys.’ 

Miraak made a motion to reply, but fire lit up in Casil’s hand. Her eyes narrowed in warning. Miraak stiffened, narrowing his eyes back at her. “So be it,” he growled, grabbing his clothing to put it  back on before he left with the door slamming behind him.

Casil let the fires burn around her hand for a few minutes after he left, trying to keep her emotions under control.

For a moment there, she’d been hoping maybe he’d be nicer. Of course not. What a stupid thing to believe might happen. She let the fire extinguish in her hand, before she angrily threw herself under the sheets again with a muted cry of frustration.

 

Jenassa seemed more amused than anything when the old dragonborn stormed down the stairs, pushing his way back outside. She leaned back in her chair at the table, brow raised as he slammed the door behind him. So, Casil finally stood up for herself it seemed. Jenassa took a sip of her wine, smirking. And Miraak did not handle it well. Served him right. She glanced up to Casil’s room. She’d give the poor bosmer some room, and would keep an eye on Miraak’s company to make sure they didn’t do anything wrong while Casil had some time alone. Divines knew the necromancer needed it.

 

And back to it, Jenassa noticed. Casil and Miraak avoided interacting with each other the next day. Casil had even managed to reign control over her house a bit more, very angrily chasing cultists out of certain rooms and setting up skeletal guards to keep watch over certain rooms. While some of the cultists were fixing the tower, Casil spent most of the time angrily telling them to stop doing things or to leave altogether. Jenassa wondered how the other dragonborn planned to keep an eye on her if he was going to keep pissing the other off. At this rate, Mora might not even need to attack them again because the dragonborns would probably be at each other’s throats again.

Jenassa bitterly wished the nord had kicked the bucket. The violent swing in moods and relationship between the two dragonborns was almost maddening to Jenassa. Lovers to mortal enemies in a blink of an eye. It was impossible for her to determine sometimes what it was that set off the changes, though she contributed this one simply to Miraak’s invasion of Casil’s house. Which, frankly, she could not blame. She rarely could blame Casil’s actions. Jenassa despised Miraak. The man treated her patron like garbage, and the two of them were so toxic for each other that Jenassa swore they would be each other’s end. She would prefer, if that was the case, that Casil was the one to kill Miraak.

It all left the dunmer feeling very  _ isolated.  _ Neither would talk to her. Miraak, because he simply didn’t like her either. And Miraak’s attitude put Casil into a bad mood, and the woman would simply stop talking beyond snappy commands and remarks. Despite the numerous other people that now loitered around the house, Jenassa had not managed to talk to any of them. Nor was she that interested in doing so. They had no interest in her, and she doubted that she would get along with anyone who worshipped Miraak of all people. 

It made her miss Sterlas. The woman stood in front of the sad little stone marker that signified where the werewolf was buried. She didn’t have anybody else to stand in the middle of the two warring dragons, or at least to talk with about it. For the few brief days she’d been with them, Serana had made Jenassa feel a lot less alone. She restrained telling the woman too much, as had the other, but the small talk had made her feel infinitely less isolated. Normally, being fairly alone did not bother Jenassa. She rarely was close to any of her previous patrons. Her job was not a particularly friendly one, or usually very long lived. But being between Casil and Miraak put her in a different spot. And she wanted to protect Casil from him. But he made Casil nasty. The woman already could have a temper, but Miraak brought out the worst attitude in her, or at least that Jenassa seen.

She felt stupid for befriending Casil. She let herself get close, and now she was paying for it in her own way. Because she wasn’t sure if she could protect Casil from this kind of danger. Miraak wasn’t a wolf she could simply slay, or a forest she could lead one through. He was a dragon, a impossible mountain pass of the coldest ice and the sharpest rocks. And his relationship with Casil was a war more complex than the Civil War to understand and navigate. 

She almost regretted not staying in the Dawnguard to at least have backup and company. Isran clearly was weary of Miraak, and so were the others. Here it was just her and Casil, versus Miraak and his followers. And Casil wouldn’t even talk to her ally. She understood Miraak was hanging around with his cultists out of paranoia of Hermaeus Mora attacking, but at this point it felt like Miraak and his ilk were imposing a military overtake of the home. Casil certainly seemed to feel that way. While she tried to pull power back out of Miraak’s hands, at the end of the day she couldn’t seem to do much to drive the dozen or so individuals who now had taken up occupation of her home and yard.

Miraak, at least, had apparently chosen to sleep outside generally. Though he had taken the bed out of the upstairs room, he had moved to an outside tent. Jenassa was relieved. She didn’t want to share a room with the bastard, and even less did she want him sharing a room with Casil.

 

Their wounds had healed up well enough to travel, but when Miraak finally confronted Casil about moving to his temple the woman had unleashed a new bought of fury on the man. She refused to leave her house to go to somewhere she had absolutely no power so he could push her around, leading to another extensive argument before the two shoved off from one another and continued ignoring one another. A full week passed of this, and every time Miraak tried to bring it up or attempted to relocate Casil, she would retaliate. Jenassa tried to intervene once, but after almost  being hit by one of Casil’s spells she decided to stay out of it and let the two fight it out.

She didn’t know what would be better. The house was decently defendable, and it gave Casil at least some level of autonomy that Miraak’s temple wouldn’t. She wasn’t even sure what his temple was like, nor was she sure if Casil knew. But each time the two clashed, it got more violent and out of control.

A week of it went by, and Jenassa felt like she was going to lose her damned mind. Children. They fought like  _ children.  _ Neither would talk it out, and they both were starting to resort to just fist fights or throwing spells at each other. In the house, even! She was waiting for one of the attacks to break something important or start the whole house on fire.

Why hadn’t they just stayed with the Dawnguard? She regretted letting Miraak talk them into this house arrest. The only thing she was thankful for was that the cultists didn’t seem to interfere in the fights either, leaving the two dragonborn to duke it out on their own terms. 

At this rate, Jenassa expected them both to be so banged up that neither would want to travel again, and she hoped it would happen just so Miraak would drop the subject for awhile and let the animosity simmer.

 

She supposed, at the end of it all, that she couldn’t be mad that they were fighting, but also be mad when they got along.

Jenassa watched a cultist leave the kitchen with a plate of food to bring to Miraak, who largely kept to himself outside in his tent.

Because she was  _ jealous,  _ she realized. No, she didn’t want Miraak to hurt Casil, to treat her like trash. But Jenassa realized that she was  _ jealous  _ of Miraak and his ability to get so close to the mousy woman. It was a hard thought to swallow, but after realizing it she knew it to be true. There was no denying it. She looked over all of her suggestions and emotions she’d had in regards to Casil. She truly thought that Miraak was mistreating her, that she knew also to be true. She did wish that he would see her more as a person and not a thing. But she also now realized that part of her wanted to push them apart because she had feelings for Casil. Because she was envious that Miraak, despite being the overbearing and prideful bastard that he was, had gotten her first.

It made Jenassa feel stupid, quite frankly. It was a realization that she would keep to herself. Casil didn’t need to know it. The woman was conflicted enough and had enough on her plate without the petty jealousy her bodyguard felt. And Miraak sure as Oblivion didn’t need to know either. Divines only knew what he’d do with that information.

The dunmer did wish that Casil was  _ happy  _ though, because right now she wasn’t. The bosmer looked more and more haggard as every day passed. The house invasion seemed to visibly stress her out as much as fighting the dragons had, but this time Casil did not seem to have a way out of this. There was no visible end to her stressor, or way to escape. She could not just ride Maehaur off into the woods without someone following her. She was in danger, and for the better good in that regard she would always have company. But it was wearing the introverted necromancer thin. Jenassa, Sterlas and Miraak had been a lot of company for her to begin with, but Miraak, Jenassa and twelve other strangers was too much. Casil’s sacred hiding spots were impossible to keep the cultists out of as well; the book tower was still in repairs, and the forge was usually in use despite her absolute best efforts to keep them out.

And Casil seemed absolutely miserable. 

Jenassa finally was fed up with it. The dunmer pushed her way past a handful of cultists, opening the doors to the outside. The tents set up by Miraak’s cultists had been moved to a circle to the right of Casil’s house in a clearing she had once used to work on the house. A large fire roared at the center, and a few cultists were either in their tent or loitering around the firepit. Their heads tilted to watch her as she stormed to the larger middle tent. A cultist stood to stop her from going in, but she idly shoved him to the side and pushed the tent flaps open. 

Miraak’s mask tilted up only slightly from his place on the other side of a desk, shifting the papers he had been writing on to the other side of the desk as Jenassa stormed in. Jenassa could feel the man glaring at her from behind his mask, but she ignored it. With her hands on her hips, she stopped in front of the desk Miraak had dragged out of Casil’s house.

“And what do  _ you  _ want?” the nord hissed, snapping his quill down sharply.

“I want you to talk to Casil.”

He leaned back in his chair with a snort. “So you are her messenger now?”

Jenassa narrowed her eyes. “No. I’m asking you to talk to her because i’m tired of your bickering. Nothing is going to get done if you two keep this up, and i’ve about had it with the fighting.”

“If the dragonborn wishes to speak to me, she can come and talk to me herself,” he replied, drumming his fingers against the desk.

“No, you are going to go  _ apologize to her, _ ” Jenassa snapped, slamming her hands down on the desk. The inkwell teetered and fell over, spilling onto the heap of papers Miraak had before him. Jenassa could hear the sharp, irritated exhale echo off of his mask.

“And why, pray tell, should I do that?” he growled, slowly moving his fingers away from the encroaching ink.

“If you expect to keep an eye on her, you certainly won’t succeed this way,” Jenassa replied cooly. “And if you don’t care about her, then I see no reason why you’re staying around here since clearly  _ you  _ are equally miserable. And as my patron, I will see to it that Casil doesn’t have to spend her day locked up in her room because of  _ trespassers _ .”

Miraak bent a piece of paper to stop the ink from rolling over the desk and into his lap, mask tilting just slightly as he surveyed Jenassa. “And you think you could defeat me?”

Jenassa pulled away from the desk, folding her arms across her chest. “I will do what I need to in order to protect Casil. It would be best if you talked to her instead,” she said simply, before turning to leave. 

Miraak adjusted a glove, gritting his teeth in irritation. He watched the sellsword shove her way past his guard again before disappearing into the house. 

No, he was  _ not  _ in a good mood. He had been hoping to be at his new temple a few days ago, but here he was still stuck in a tent  _ outside  _ the house. And here he had thought that maybe he’d gotten Casil to calm down, but then he apparently had gone and messed it up again. Insufferable woman. Why did Hermaeus Mora have to be dogging them now? And it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to talk to her, and Divines knew he and nothing to  _ apologize  _ for. Hah! If she was upset at him, it was her own damn fault and not his.

He caught a glimpse of his guard peering in, but the shift of his mask was enough to send the man cowering back around the edge of the tent.

No, sitting here in a tent was not where he wanted to be right now. He would rather be in his temple, or at least trying to get into the political crowd while it was in chaos. While the Civil War didn’t look like it was going to end any time soon, he did not want to waste time.

The dragonborn pulled a sheet of paper out from under his heap, dropping it on the ink before getting up. 

Fine. So be it. If ‘apologizing’ is what it would take to get Casil to come along, then so be it. He strode out of his tent, pushing his way inside the house. Jenassa had returned to her chair at the table, giving him an expectant stare before motioning upstairs. Miraak didn’t give her the satisfaction of a glance, storming up the creaking stairs as he headed towards her room.

He knocked on the door with a rap of his knuckles, waiting against the doorframe for Casil to answer. There was silence, so he knocked one more time before simply opening it. Her room was empty, and Miraak felt a lurch of his heart. Where was she…?

He turned to call for her, before pausing. No, he knew where Casil was. With a sigh, Miraak left her room, turning to the neighboring room that lead to the small turret at the top of her book tower that had only just been fixed. He pulled himself up on the ladder, shoving the trap door open.

He was glad he braced himself, because Casil’s foot had come within inches of smashing the trap door down into his head as hard as she could manage. He managed to shove the trap door open with a grunt, making the bosmer woman stumble back. 

“I’m here to  _ talk,  _ woman,” he snapped, pulling himself up into the tower before she could try to shove him down again.

Casil glowered at him, leaning against the railing of the turret where she’d been knocked. She reached out for a dagger she’d set on the small table she’d brought up, holding it out in front of her defensively. Miraak took up the other side of the turret, hand on his sword. Casil simply shook her head, motioning for him to leave.

“I’m here to  _ apologize _ ,” he said calmly.

Casil snorted, shifting her dagger just enough to reply. ‘Because Jenassa asked you to. I heard it up here.’

Miraak cursed the stupid dunmer woman for shouting at him outside and not even checking to see if Casil was out there. He cursed a lot of things right now. “Our…  _ bickering  _ has gone on for long enough now.”

Casil scowled. ‘This is  _ your  _ fault.’

“Because  _ you  _ keep getting wrapped up in your own head?” he hissed back. “It is your  _ own  _ fault that you won’t  _ listen  _ to me, you foolish girl.”

‘Because  _ you  _ keep playing games!’

“And you expect any different from me?”

‘That doesn’t give you an  _ excuse  _ to do it.’

“You are blaming a wolf for killing a rabbit. It’s your own fault for thinking things would go differently.”

Casil threw the dagger at him. The blade bounced off of one of the beams that held up the turret roof, taking a chunk of wood out in the process. 

Miraak let out a long, irritated sigh. “I will  _ forcibly  _ move you if you don’t comply. I have no desire keeping guard at your pathetic little house if Hermaeus Mora decides to attack.”

Casil gave him a violent shrug. ‘You don’t care, why bother moving me?’

Miraak was ready to throw the woman over the edge of the turret. “How many times do I need to answer that damn question?” 

‘You’ve never given me a real answer, Miraak. Because I know the one you’re giving me is  _ bullshit. _ ’

“What answer do you  _ want  _ me to give you?” Miraak suddenly shouted. 

Casil flinched back in surprise at the sudden intensity of his reply. Her hands fumbled for words, but ended up just clenched to her chest in defense. Miraak strode over and slammed his hands on either side of the railing behind Casil, caging her small frame under his own. His mask waited inches from her face, and Casil could hear his hard breathing behind it.

“What answer do you want me to give you, Casil? Do you want me to tell you that I care for you? That i’m your  _ friend?  _ That I am doing this because I want the best for you? That I really care about your  _ happiness? _ ” he hissed lowly, mask moving closer. Casil leaned back over the railing, moving her hands back to grip it from falling over. “Do you want me to tell you that I  _ love  _ you?” 

Casil swallowed hard, eyes drifting to the side. 

Miraak reached up and grabbed her chin with his hand roughly, jerking her to look at him again. His mask rested against her forehead, before leaning towards her ear. “Because I will _never_ tell you that I love you. Because I will _never_ love you, Casil. Get over it, _mal dovahkiin.[Zu’u thuriil, hi zaami. Hi kos onik mindoraan daar](-)_ _[.](-)” _ He let go of her chin, shoving her head to the side before he pulled away. “Don’t believe I feel _pity_ for you either, or that you might _guilt_ me for my behavior. [Zu’u sunvaar. Ulse, zu’u fen kos sunvaar, dovahkiin](-) _._ You are blind not to see that.”

The words struck a mighty blow on Casil. Her fingers dug into the railing, knuckles turning white as she stared at the man before her. She wanted to stay strong, and not let his words get to her. But they did. 

She took a shuddery inhale, before picking up her bag next to the table. She swung it around, managing to catch Miraak off guard and nail him in the face with it. He hissed, staggering back. She kicked the trap door open, glaring at him through tears.

‘I hope Mora kills you, Miraak,’ she signed to him when his head whipped around to see her. She dropped down the ladder quickly, throwing her bag over her shoulder before leaping the balcony. 

Jenassa jerked back in surprise when Casil landed in the middle of the table, and did not have time to get through her shock before Casil had bolted out the door.

“Casil- Casil!” She stammered, shoving herself back before rushing out after the bosmer. But Casil had already managed to grab Maehaur, and before she knew it the bosmer had taken off through a crowd of cultists. Jenassa cursed, trying to grab her horse. She glared at the cultists. “We can’t let her-” she began, before she heard the doors slam open. Miraak stormed out. Jenassa pulled her horse out of the stable, swiftly pulling herself onto the beast’s back. “This is  _ your  _ fault-” she began again, but to her surprise she was met with a Unrelenting Force that knocked her off her horse and sent the beast to the ground as well. Jenassa winced, but before she could get up Miraak had his foot on her chest and his sword at her throat. She grimaced, letting out a hiss of pain as leaned over her. 

“Open your mouth again and I will cut your head off your shoulders,” he snarled. He snapped his head to his cultists. “Find her, and do whatever you have to to stop her. Is that clear?”

A handful of the cultists gave nervous nods, hurrying around the house like ants.

Miraak snapped his attention back to Jenassa. “I have had enough of your  _ meddling  _ in our affairs. This is my last warning to you, elf,” he growled, pulling his sword back. He left her with a kick to the side, before storming no doubt to call a dragon.

Jenassa winced, clutching her side. Anger welled up in her chest, and she swore that if it weren’t for the dozen cultists around and the fact that Casil had just taken off, she would have stormed after Miraak to kill him.

She tried to avert her attention to the more pressing problem at hand: Casil took off. She couldn’t be too far ahead, but Jenassa did not doubt that Casil would disappear on them if they weren’t careful.

Jenassa pushed herself up to her feet, moving to calm her horse who had darted off. She needed to reach Casil before Miraak or the cultists did. She wasn’t sure what was exchanged between the dragonborn, but she no longer doubted that one would kill the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Zu’u thuriil, hi zaami. Hi kos onik mindoraan daar.** \- I am your master, you are my slave. You’d be wise to understand that.
> 
>  **Zu’u sunvaar. Ulse, zu’u fen kos sunvaar, dovahkiin.** \- I am a monster. For eternity, I will be a monster, dragonborn.


	60. LX. Lights Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Hi bel mu, thuri?** \- You summoned us, milord?
> 
>  **Dovahkiin lost vod** -The dragonborn has gone.
> 
>  **Pogaan tiid hi lost sizaan niin. Zu’u drey ni mindok dovhakiin lost med mindol** \- Many times you have lost them. I did not know the dragonborn was like a thought.
> 
>  **Ni rahgot zu’u. Fod nii lost ni fah komeyt ahst haal, zu’u lost kriaan hi** \- Don’t anger me. If it were not for the issue at hand, i’d have killed you.
> 
>  **Daar prodah fah pah do hi** \- This is a warning for all of you.
> 
>  **Siiv laat dovahkiin drun ek zu’u. Rul hi fen krif ek, ful nii los** -Find the last dragonborn and bring her to me. If you must fight her, so be it.
> 
>  **Losei ahraan.** \- You’re scared.
> 
>  **Geh, zu’u los.** \- Yes, I am.
> 
>  **Hi krif voth ek, losei tiiraaz.** \- You fought with her, and you’re sad.
> 
>  **Ni dah kogaaniil** \- Don’t push your blessings.

Maehaur had not run so fast or far before in his life. The horse’s hooves thundered against the cobbled path, before shifting to dirt as Casil directed him off the road. Dirt turned into snow after a while, before at last Maehaur was allowed to slow down. Exhausted, the horse slowed to a walk as he listened to the soft sniffling of his rider.

Casil berated herself over and over for growing attached, for caring, for everything. What was she expecting? She’d already been beating herself up over her situation, but hearing the words from  _ him _ had just…

Her fingers shifted on Maehaur’s reins, biting her lower lip to fight back more tears.

She shouldn’t have expected anything else. She should not have dreamed of anything else. She had given herself the illusion that there was a human behind those soulless eyes, when she knew full well there wasn’t, and probably never had been.

This was her own fault. She’d tricked herself into this. The swift ride into the woods had drained all the sorrow out of her, and in return rage built up in its place. 

Anger for herself. Anger for Miraak. Anger for the dragons. Anger for the Divines. Everything at this point.

Casil let out a sigh, leaning forward so she could rest her head against the back of Maehaur’s neck. The horse shook his head, giving a gentle snort in response. 

_ Because I will never love you. _

Casil pet the horse’s neck, watching the ground pass underneath. 

_ Because I will never love you. _

She felt her eyelids droop a bit. 

_ But I will love you. _

How misplaced she put those emotions. Love and attraction finally showed up to be spent on something so unrequited and one sided. That would be her luck, she supposed. It would be in line with everything else that had happened in her gods forsaken life. She could still run away from Skyrim, she knew. She could leave Miraak behind. She could leave everything this frozen hellhole had thrown at her behind. 

And just try to forget him. She knew she couldn’t. She could try. The border of Skyrim was not far, she realized. Her money was mostly back in her house though, and little was on her. She wished she hadn’t left in a rush. But she’d started with less before. 

Miraak had taken advantage of her, and her heart felt like it was split open. She tried to push the thoughts of how he held her, how he made her heart flutter. She turned Maehaur south. 

A mistake. A mistake that could easily become fatal, she realized. 

She hoped Jenassa would forgive her for disappearing. She wondered if Mora would still hunt her down if she left Miraak’s side. 

There would be plenty of time to think about it on the road ahead, she figured.

 

Sulronaazrath landed on the crumbling word wall, surveying the assortment of dragons Miraak had managed to gather. The green dragon felt the dragonborn slide off his neck, landing on the edge of the wall to do the same.

Seven dragons had immediately gathered at their new master’s call; Dwiinsadondeyto, a serpentine dragon that Sulronaazarth recognized as a frequent pack mule for Miraak. Nillotrii, a wyrm that was accompanied by Lahfaraansu, another serpentine dragon. Diinyuvondur, a frost dragon, was lurking near the other lower ranking dragons on the ground. Hevnovolqoth and Vedlovaashorvut, a blackwing and legendary dragon, both had taken perches on rocks slightly higher above those on the ground. Perched almost on even ground with Miraak and himself lastly was Kreinreinsul, a brilliantly colored sun dragon who Sulronaazrath had been expecting to become Miraak’s right hand.

Kreinreinsul spoke with a deep rumbling in their yellow-orange scales. “[Hi bel mu, thuri?](-) _ ” _

_ “[Dovahkiin lost vod](-) _ _ ,”  _ Miraak stated, an edge to his voice.

Diinyuvondur churckled. “ [ _ Pogaan tiid hi lost sizaan niin. Zu’u drey ni mindok dovhakiin lost med mindol _ ](-) _[.](-)”  _

Sulronaazrath stiffened as Miraak snapped his attention to the frost dragon. The dragonborn jumped down to the snow below, before unleashing a fury of electricity on the dragon. Diinyuvondur snarled, backing up before trying to take flight. 

“ _ Iiz Slen Nus!” _

Ice crept over the dragon, weighing him down too much to fly. The beast staggered back, hissing in pain as Miraak struck him with more electricity. When at last the beast collapsed, Miraak slammed his boot into the dragon’s snout. He leaned over Diinyuvondur, grinding the creature’s face slowly into the dirt.

“[Ni rahgot zu’u.  Fod nii lost ni fah komeyt ahst haal, zu’u lost kriaan hi](-) _ ,”  _ he hissed. He finally pulled away, turning to the rest of the dragons. “ [ _ Daar prodah fah pah do hi _ _. _ ](-) ” He turned away and walked back towards the word wall. 

Dinnyuvondur limped back, shaking the ice slowly off his form. The other dragons watched their brother, before returning their attention to Miraak as he used Sulronaazrath to climb back on top of the wall.

“[Siiv laat dovahkiin drun ek zu’u. Rul hi fen krif ek, ful nii los](-) _ ,”  _ Miraak said, climbing back onto Sulronaazrath’s back. 

The dragons gave their various grunts of affirmation, before taking off to the sky. 

Sulronaazrath took to the sky as well once the rest were gone. His head tilted back slightly as he climbed into the sky. “ [ _ Losei ahraan _ ](-) _[.](-)”  _ The dragon expected Miraak to shock him or something, but the man didn’t. Which to be fair, if Sulronaazrath faltered in his flying Miraak would simply fall to his death.

Miraak was silent for a good amount of time. “[Geh, zu’u los.](-) ” The reply was hardly audible over the roar of the wind.  

Sulronaazarth leveled out just above the clouds. “[Hi krif voth ek, losei tiiraaz.](-) _ ” _

_ “[Ni dah kogaaniil](-) _ _ ,”  _ Miraak growled. 

Sulronaazrath hummed. So be it. But Miraak was worried. And that was interesting.

 

Casil was nearing the border of Skyrim by evening. By nightfall, she’d be over the border she hoped, and away from everything. And hopefully, she’d be where Miraak would never bother looking. She’d seen a handful of dragons circling overhead, and had moved Maehaur to the woods to avoid detection.

Just a few more hours, and she’d be in Cydroiil. She could be away from it all. Start over again. Just like she’d been planning. 

She could never see Miraak again. He could leave her alone to play whatever gods forsaken game he wanted to without her. Away from Casil. Jenassa could go back to her life away from the disaster Casil had dragged her into, and things could just go on their way. It was time to change again. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been driven out of somewhere, and she doubted it would be the last.

Maehaur lifted his head, ears perking up as he glanced somewhere to their right. Casil raised a tired brow, shifting her gaze to follow where Maehaur was looking. Faintly, Casil could hear the sound of someone screaming, followed by the sound of snapping branches and twigs. The horse whinnied, shifting back uneasily. 

Casil held Maehaur steady, waiting to see who was being chased and what was chasing them. The cry sounded like a child, and Casil made a guess that the thing chasing them was some sort of troll. And sure enough, a young boy came barreling out of the woods towards her, skin cut from running through branches and falling into rocks. He spotted her, and bolted over to her as quickly as his thin legs could.

“Troll! Troll!” he cried, voice hoarse. He threw himself behind Maehaur, cowering.

Casil cursed to herself, lighting a fire in her hand as a troll plowed through the trees ahead on its knuckles. She did not hesitate to hurl fire into the monster’s face. It snarled, veering off to the side to size up the sudden opponent. Casil turned Maehaur to face the troll, summoning more fire in her hand. The troll reared up onto its back legs, bearing long fangs with a beat of its chest and a roar. Another ball of fire collided with the beast’s chest, causing it to stagger back. The troll was wise enough to turn away, giving Casil a snarl before running away. Casil turned to glance at the young boy hiding against Maehaur’s flank. The boy couldn’t have been older than 14, with ragged clothing and a bag slung over his shoulder that Casil could see was full of paper.

“T-thank you miss-” he began, before pausing. His eyes went wide. “Wait, y-you’re the dragonborn aren't you!” 

Casil stiffened. She reached into her bag after checking to make sure the troll was gone, before pulling out a new journal and charcoal. ‘Go home kid.’

To her surprise, the boy shuffled in his bag before producing a letter. He shakily held it up to her. “I-i’m supposed to give this to you if I see you… I-i don’t know w-who it’s from but…”

Casil hesitated, before taking the note. The kid shuffled where he stood, rubbing a cut up arm. She looked it over. It didn’t look like anything, a normal envelope with no particular seal. She cautiously opened it up, before pulling out the message and unfolding it.

_ To whom it concerns, _

_ I know you already left, but your ‘friend’ showed up and wants to speak to you. Come talk to it and see what it wants. It won’t talk to us. _

_ -A concerned citizen. _

 

Casil furrowed her brow, eyeing a little symbol written next to the name. A line, with a half circle, with lines emitting out of it and a shield above it.

Isran must have written this, Casil guessed. Which mean Serana had showed up at the Dawnguard…? She frowned. Unusual. She looked to the kid with a heavy sigh. ‘I’ll take you back to the nearest town,’ she wrote, showing the child before putting her journal away. She offered her hand out, helping the kid climb up onto Maehaur. The boy carefully gripped onto her as Casil urged Maehaur to turn around and head back towards Fort Dawnguard. 

What was she doing? She glanced back over her shoulder. The border was right there, but she was turning away again. She sighed, trying to focus on the road ahead. The boy gripped onto her robes. 

“What were you doing out here, miss dragonborn? Were you going on an adventure?”

Casil threw the child a glance, and he shrunk back. The bosmer shook her head. Well, perhaps it was an adventure, but she wasn’t sure if she considered it that. 

The boy was quiet for a few more minutes as Maehaur picked up to a quick trot. “Thank you for saving everyone, miss. And thank you for scaring off that troll. You really are strong,” he said, voice quiet. 

Casil glanced down at Maehaur’s neck. She gave a tiny nod in reply. 

Maehaur slowed to a stop once they neared the edge of the nearest village. The child carefully climbed off the huge horse, brushing twigs off his pants. “Thank you again!” he exclaimed, eyes bright.

Casil nodded, pulling out her journal. ‘Please don’t tell anyone that you met me. There’s someone I don’t want to find me,’ she wrote.

The boy frowned. “Oh, alright,” he glanced at the ground, shifting his courier’s bag on his shoulder. “But thank you. I hope your adventuring goes well,” he said, smiling at her again before turning to run off towards the village. Casil watched the boy run off, before nudging Maehaur to continue towards the Fort.

Agmaer was surprised to see Casil as she approached. He motioned for the gate to be opened, before rushing over to the dragonborn. “You’re back! We didn’t really think you’d come back - I mean, you have, but the way you left-”

Casil waved a hand, sliding off of Maehaur before producing her journal. ‘Is there a place I can hide Maehaur?’ 

Agmaer frowned and furrowed his brow. “What? Why do you need to hide him?”

‘Doesn’t matter. I need to him to be hidden, and I don’t need anyone to know i’m here.’

Agmaer stiffened, glancing at the only other person guarding the gate before nodding. He reached up and took Maehaur’s reins. “Yeah, I know a place we can hide him. Head inside, i’m sure Isran will be excited to see you back, so you can talk to that… thing.”

Casil frowned, before nodding. She tucked her journal under her arm, wandering up the slope to the entry of the Fort itself. She gave one last glance to the skies. In the distance, she could see the distant shape of a dragon. She wouldn’t be surprised if it was one of Miraak’s, the bastard. She turned and pushed the door open, heading inside.

It had been renovated quite a bit in the week or so she’d been gone. More things had been brought in, and from what Casil could tell there were a good amount of new people hanging around. A handful of people eyed Casil as she came in, and she held up her journal. The open page simply had ‘Isran?’ written on it in large letters. Someone directed her to a room on the second floor, and Casil made her way up to it.

She pushed the door open, eyeing the torture room she’d walked into. The bosmer stiffened, carefully peering in before sighing in relief to see Serana alive and not strapped down.

The vampire and the vampire hunter stood on the far sides of the room, clearly uncomfortable with the other’s presence. Serana glanced at Casil as she entered, before her eyes lit up.

“You came. I was worried you wouldn’t,” she said with a sigh of relief.

Isran glanced at her as well. “So, came anyways after leaving huh? Good. You can deal with this,” he said, motioning to Serana. “I take it your friends are waiting somewhere?”

Casil frowned, stepping inside before turning the page in her journal. She shook her head at Isran, before writing ‘Why are you over here, Serana?’ She asked, looking concerned.

Serana pursed her lips. “I’d rather not be here either, but I need to talk to you. It’s important, so… please, just listen before your friend here loses his patience,” she said, glaring at Isran.

Isran rolled his eyes. “I’m not  _ thrilled  _ with you being here either.”

Casil sighed and motioned for Serana to continue.

“It’s… well, about me,” Serana admitted after a moment. “And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me. I’m guessing you figured this part out already, but my father’s not… exactly a good person. Even by vampire standards,” she said, folding her arms. “It wasn’t always bad, I suppose. But… everything… changed. He found a prophecy you see, that said something about vampires being able to control the sun. He became obsessed over it. If vampires could control the sun, there’d be nothing for us to fear. Through some sort of artifact,” she explained. “That’s what he’s after. He wants to control the sun, have vampires control the world. My mother didn’t want that, or want my father to succeed. So… she sealed me away, with the scroll. So my father couldn’t get it… or me, apparently. I don’t know what I have to do with it, but it’s… obviously important.”

Casil listened, eyeing Isran as he listened as well. 

Serana exhaled. “I realize that this place isn’t exactly friendly to my kind, but… I want to help. I’m not exactly crazy over the idea of my father controlling the sun, or anything of the likes,” she said.

Isran grunted. “All right, you’ve heard what it has to say. Now tell me, is there any reason I shouldn’t kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?” 

Casil shot him a glare. ‘She’s trying to help us, you know,’ Casil signed angrily at him after setting her journal on a table. ‘And so far she’s the only one that has any idea of what’s going on.’

Serana gave the two a confused look, but Isran finally sighed. He glanced to Serana with a look of mild disgust. “Fine. Don’t feel like a gust, because you’re not. You’re a resource, an asset. In the meantime, don’t make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity, because if you do, your friend here is going to pay for it,” he warned, before turning to leave the room.

Casil reached out to stop him, earning her a mildly irritated look from Isran. ‘If anyone asks, i’m not here. I asked Agmaer to hide my horse.’

He raised a brow at her. “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into in the last week to be hiding?”

Casil grimaced. ‘Just… a dispute. With someone. I just need to be left alone for awhile.’

He looked her over. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t know you’re here,” Isran replied, before turning to leave again.

Casil nodded in thanks, turning to Serana before jerking back to face Isran in surprise. He? Was it that obvious? She gritted her teeth, but Serana walked over and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks. I know this was sudden… and I didn’t… realize you weren’t hanging around here anymore,” she said, frowning. “Where are the other two?”

‘Away. I’m avoiding them,’ Casil wrote, averting her eyes to the ground.

Serana’s frowned deepened. “You seemed to be having issues last I saw you.” The vampire shook her head. “I guess that’s not why you or I are here though. We need to find someone who can read the Scroll.”

Casil furrowed her brow. ‘The only people who can read Elder Scrolls are Moth Priests. I’ve looked at one  _ once _ , to defeat Alduin, but I don’t think I actually read it as much as used it to look at the past. And the Moth Priests are all the way down in the Imperial City.’

Which she could be at, in maybe a week or more’s time. A day or so ago she’d almost been at the border between Skyrim and Cyrodiil. She could have just left and been done with everything, but here she was.

“Luckily for you,” Isran suddenly spoke, apparently still lurking around the corner, “Beleval noticed an Imperial scholar on the road a few days back. You might be able to catch them if you ask around, but don’t expect me to send anyone out to find them.”

Casil turned to face him. ‘You were listening.’

Isran nodded. “To make sure you weren’t plotting something behind my back.”

Casil snorted. ‘Like i’d be this blatant about it if I were.’

Isran managed a smirk, but turned away again with no other word.

“I’m still shocked he didn’t kill me on the spot. Almost did, but,” Serana gave a shrug. 

‘He has his reasons I suppose,’ Casil wrote, pushing her way out of the room. Serana followed after her. 

“So what’s your plan now?” Serana asked, eyeing the few Dawnguard members on the second floor.

Casil sighed, rubbing the back of her head. ‘I need a few days to think. I know we might not have a lot of time, but I need to think. And lay low.’ She wrote.

Serana pursed her lips. “Of course. It sounds like you’ve had a lot on your plate.”

Casil glanced back at her. ‘What about you? Are you going to go back to your castle?’

Serana blinked, before shaking her head. “I was hoping you’d let me hang around you for awhile. Help out the best I can with this mess.”

Casil tilted her head, before shrugging. ‘I don’t see why not.’ It would be refreshing. She could use someone to watch her back anyways. Casil made her way down the stairs, looking around on the ground floor. A kitchen, forge, and a handful of other rooms had been set up towards the back of the Fort. Most of it was fairly makeshift, but it served its purpose. Several rows of cots had been set up in one of the rooms with the biggest fireplaces, and a handful of people sat around in chairs or at one of the long tables in the dining room. She would have to find a corner to settle down in if she was going to hide here. Away from the cots, and away from where she had been settling in case someone came looking for her. Dawnguard members gave Serana and Casil uneasy looks, but Casil made sure she stood between them and the vampire. 

It wasn’t like she had a lot on her now anyways. ‘Let’s find us some bedrolls and somewhere to sleep,’ Casil wrote, showing it to Serana. 

“Planning to stay here for awhile?” She asked.

Casil glanced to the side. ‘For now.’ She shifted to head out of the general living spaces, but a few Dawnguard members cut her off. A breton woman and a nord man cut Casil off from passing, their arms crossed as they eyed the dragonborn and her vampire companion. Casil stiffened, eyeing them.

“So, you’re the dragonborn huh? We heard you weren’t coming back. I was kind of disappointed I didn’t get to meet you,” the woman said, looking Casil over. She offered Casil a hand. “My name is Sorine Jurard. I rejoined the Dawnguard just a few days after you left. This here is Gunmar,” she said, motioning to the nord next to her. He offered out his hand as well.

“Never thought i’d be meeting the dragonborn themselves,” he chuckled.

Casil hesitated, before very carefully shaking the hands of the two Dawnguards. She reached for her journal, but Gunmar spoke up before she could.

“We realize you have a mighty hard time communicating, but we’d like to talk with you if you have the time,” he motioned to one of the long dinner tables. “If you’d like to take a seat.”

“You planning on interrogating her?” Serana asked skeptically, brow raised.

Sorine gave the vampire a uneasy look. “No, not exactly. I suppose if Isran let you stay though, you’re free to join us.”

Casil sighed reluctantly, before moving to take a seat at the table. The other three followed, Serana sitting to her side while the Dawnguard members sat across from them.

‘What did you want to ask me?’ Casil wrote, spinning the journal around so they could read it.

Gunmar cleared his throat. “We wanted to know what all you can bring to the table, your skills and-”

“We wanted to hear about your adventure,” Sorine jutted in, beaming.

Casil blinked. ‘My adventure?’

Sorine nodded eagerly. “Yes. How you found out that you were the dragonborn, and how you defeated Alduin.” She paused. “I mean, as long as you’re okay with that. All of us have only heard rumors and none of them match up.”

“Besides,” Gunmar grunted, “They’re nothing in comparison to the story told by the person who was there, eh?”

Serana noticed Casil shrink in on herself. “You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to,” Serana said, though Casil could tell she was interested as well.

The bosmer let out a soft sigh, noticing a few other Dawnguard members slow near the table to look.

‘Will you read it out for me, Serana?’ Casil wrote. ‘If other people want to listen. So I don’t have to keep holding the journal up.’

A big grin came to Serana’s face, flashing her sharp fangs. “Of course i’ll read it out for you.”

Gunmar and Sorine seemed excited as well. The motioned for other members to join them around the table. People put down what they were doing, moving to sit at the table or lean against the table.

Casil took a deep breath, turning to a blank page. She pursed her lips, tapping the charcoal against the page as she thought about how to start. With a gentle nod of her head, she finally set her charcoal down and began to write.

 

She told them. She told them everything she had to say. Things she had not told others, things nobody had asked about before. She told them about Sterlas, and how the two of them collected weapons. They let her continue. She told them about seeing Alduin attack Helgen. She told them how she wanted to protect Whiterun, how she fought her first dragon. She told them about the climb to the Greybeard’s temple, about the trials she was put through, how she pushed through even though she did not have the voice. They listened intently, more and more Dawnguard members gathering to hear her story. She told them how she met Jenassa. She told them about the Elder Scroll, and what she saw through it. How lost and scared she felt along the way, how Hermaeus Mora pointed her to Miraak. How she saved him from Apocrypha, and how they held a peace treaty at High Hrothgar. How they trapped Odahviing in Whiterun, and rode him the temple that held a portal to Sovngarde itself. Serana read out her every word, expertly reading her story to the crowd who came to listen. Casil even noticed Isran in the back corner, arms folded as he listened in. 

She told them about how they traveled to the nordic afterlife to face Alduin himself. About how the heroes of old greeted them, and joined them in the fight against the World-Eater. She pridefully told them about the skeletal army she summoned to face the dragon, and the battle that ensured. Dawnguard members hung on the edge of their seats between each pause as Casil wrote down the next part of the story. She sorrowfully told them about Sterlas’s death, and their goodbye with the werewolf. She finished with the swarm of dragons that met them at the Throat of the World, and how she ended up at the Dawnguard looking for another adventure.

And to her shock, she was met with an applause. She was met with cheering, and then a hug from several members in thanks. 

And it felt strange to Casil. To be celebrated for what she’d done. For people to know about what she’d gone through, and seen. For people to be thanking her now. Like the lines of people waiting outside of Whiterun, but with the knowledge that she’d  _ survived  _ and  _ won.  _

You were brave. You will be remembered. People will sing about you for ages. I never thought I would meet a real legend. Pats on the back, hand shakes, hugs. Condolences, thank yous. People glad that she was on their side. People excited to fight beside her. Honored to meet her. People welcome to have her there amongst them.

And it brought Casil to tears. 

Because it was strange, after her whole life, after the last few days especially, to have people be happy to see her. For them to be proud of her and glad she was there. She assured them that she was fine, with a smile on her face. Overwhelmed, but fine. Slowly the crowd began to disperse to give her room, each thanking her for her story, for saving the world from Alduin.

But before most could leave or Casil could get up herself, someone burst through the doors.

“There’s a dragon! A dragon heading this way!”

Casil paled, feeling her heart sink in her chest. She looked to Serana, and Serana grabbed her.

“We have to hide her. She was never here,” Serana said quickly.

A few Dawnguard members nodded, motioning for the dragonborn to follow. Casil gave Serana a concerned look, before hurrying after them.

The vampire nodded and glanced to Isran. The man grunted. “I’ll handle this,” he muttered, making his way outside.

A dragon was slowly making its way closer to the fort. If Casil was going to hang around again, and didn’t want to be found, he could arrange that. He couldn’t lie that Casil’s story certainly made him dislike who he assumed was on the back of that dragon just that much more.

He’d be more then happy to tell Miraak off.

 

The green dragon landed down, causing a few of the guards to shift uneasily as they eyed the large, scaly monster. Sure enough, Miraak slid off of the beast’s neck and strode towards the Fort’s door. Isran kept his arms folded across his chest, staring the dragonborn down.

“Where is she,” Miraak snapped, hand on his sword.

“If you’re looking for your friend, she’s not here,” Isran replied calmly.

“I’m not in the mood for your lies,” Miraak snarled, weapon now drawn.

Isran drew his warhammer, and the guards around him drew their own weapons or aimed their crossbows at the nord. “And i’m not in the mood for your assumptions. We haven’t seen her since you left last.”

“You were  _ waiting  _ outside for me,” Miraak snapped.

“You are riding a  _ dragon.  _ I’m not about to let my Fort be attacked,” Isran retorted. 

Miraak stopped several feet from Isran, sword pointed at him. “Then you should have no problem allowing me to check the Fort for her.”

Isran snorted. “If you want to waste your time in doing so. But if you cross any lines, you will be cut down,” he said, lowering his weapon and stepping aside.

The guards gave Isran a nervous look, but the redguard motioned for them to lower their weapons. Miraak narrowed his eyes at the Dawnguard leader, before sheathing his own sword. He ordered Sulronaazrath to wait, before pridefully striding inside. Isran followed him, calm. 

The people inside gave Miraak uneasy looks, but continued on with what they had been doing prior to Casil’s story telling. Serana loitered in the shadows of the kitchen area, glowing eyes narrowed at Miraak as he investigated the room.

“And why might  _ you  _ be here,” Miraak growled at her when he noticed her.

“None of your business,” she replied cooly, folding her arms.

“If you were still apart of this group, we might tell you. But you left, with Casil,” Isran added, standing not far behind the old dragonborn.

Miraak glared at both at them, balling his hands into fists. “You take me to be a  _ fool,”  _ he hissed.

Serana shrugged. “If you’re looking for her, no, she’s not here. I’m sure Isran already told you that from the looks of it.”

Isran was glad at least that the blood sucker seemed to be on his side here. 

Miraak gritted his teeth, before turning to continue looking through the fort.

 

Casil tried to keep her breathing low. If Miraak used Aura Whisper, she’d be screwed. The guards had hidden her in a small secret closet towards the back of the fort, but she wasn’t sure if it’d be enough. She had her bag and everything she’d brought in on her, sos he didn’t think he’d find anything of her’s. Maehaur should have been hidden as well, or at least she hoped. Because if he found the horse, he’d find her too.

She could hear angry voices down the hall. He was coming, she just knew it. 

“The dragonborn? You’re looking for the dragonborn?”

She stiffened. She wasn’t familiar with the voice, so she assumed it was a Dawnguard member she hadn’t talked to yet.

“Where is she?” She could hear Miraak growl.

“I think - I’m pretty sure I heard that she was heading towards Windhelm when I was out the other day -”

“Are you  _ sure? _ ”

“On a large brown and white horse, orange eyes, dusky skin r-right?” 

There was silence for a moment, before she heard the turn of metal boots. 

“There’s your answer,” Isran snorted. Miraak did not reply, and she could hear him stomp away. 

Casil managed a sigh of relief. She was safe for now. Hopefully, he wouldn’t come back for awhile. Now she just had to wait for the clear.


	61. LXI. Silhouette

Miraak threw his fist into a wall, chest rising and falling as he hissed through clenched teeth. Even with dragons and cultists on the lookout, Casil had  _ disappeared.  _ He had been  _ sure  _ that she was at Fort Dawnguard, but he could not confirm it and the Dawnguard members certainly weren’t happy with him showing up. Jenassa apparently hadn’t even found her yet, and Miraak felt anxiety choke him as every minute passed. Where was she? Was she safe? Was she even  _ Skyrim  _ anymore? He was starting to doubt it. That, or she had hidden down in some cave. She would have to show up in town at some point, he reckoned, if she was still  _ alive.  _ But for all he knew, Herma-Mora had gotten her the second she had left his sight.

He ripped his mask off, throwing it against the wall. It made a loud, metallic clattering as it fell to the ground, and Miraak threw himself into the chair that sat in front of his desk. He clenched his fist, wincing from sending it into the stone wall. 

Casil was gone. Casil had taken off, and he could not find her. It had been three, no, maybe four days since she had left. And she hadn’t shown up to anyone. He expected her to return back to him after a few days, but suddenly he was frightened that this time she might  _ not _ .

And she’d taken off because of what he said to her. 

Miraak tore his gloves off, throwing them against the wall as he examined the blood and gashes on his knuckles. 

His fault. No, it had to be  _ her’s.  _ He had warned her! He told her how he saw her, and how he felt about their relationship. And  _ she  _ was the one who just kept pushing it, kept letting herself have emotions for him.  _ Her  _ fault!

He didn’t love her. She was nothing. She was a prize, and he was mad because his trophy had gone missing. That was it. That was the reason he felt panic, fear. That he was hunched over his desk, with a bloody hand in his greying hair as he tried to figure out where she had gone. Why he was afraid she might be dead. She might be hurt. 

He let out a choked sob, his forehead falling against the desk.

His heart hurt. The way she had looked at him when he had told her that he would never  love her. How  _ hurt  _ she looked. It hurt him for saying that.

Odahviing was right. No, he did not need the dragon to understand how he felt, but Odahviing had just made it more obvious how hard he was denying it. Casil wanted to be with him. And he pushed her away, used her, threw her down. He did not want to be with her. He did not want to love her. A weak necromancer wood elf. A dragonborn with no thu’um. A moral-less hermit and introvert. When Miraak had imagined the last dragonborn, the potential opponents he would have to face to potentially free himself, it was not Casil. The kind of woman he wanted to be with, the kind of person he wanted to allow himself to open up to, it was not Casil. Some mute mer who had to come to him to complete her own destiny.

Then why did he want her to be there beside him? For her to stay with him, to never leave him? 

He was so insecure with himself and his feelings for her that he had pushed her to her limits, and she snapped. Because all he had done is push her away, and over and over again she had tried to come back but she had had enough. And she left, and he couldn’t find her now. Because he was the one who was afraid of opening up to her. 

He slammed his fist into the desk, causing the books and papers on it to fall off as he let out a yell of anger. He pushed back, grabbing the edge of the desk before flipping it over. He gripped the back of his chair and hurled it against the wall, causing it to fragment into a few pieces. His fist found the wall again, splattering more blood against it as he repeatedly punched the weathered stone.

He was foolish. He drove her away. And this time, he was the one realizing how badly he had fucked up and how much he missed her.

 

Casil adjusted her hood, scanning the road ahead of them. The horse below her shook his head, swishing his tail in irritation at the slow pace.

“You sure this is the best place to look?” Serana asked, pulling her horse up next to Casil. She gave a slight shrug. She honestly wasn’t sure.

Casil and Serana had headed out to try to track down the imperial scholar that Isran had seen several days earlier, once they were sure that Miraak wasn’t about to show up again. Casil borrowed a different horse so she was less obvious, hoping Miraak or anyone he sent looking for her wouldn’t be able to spot her. With a hooded cloak, the two of them set out.

Traveling wasn’t easy, Casil found. Communicating with Serana was difficult. Casil had started to teach her sign language, but it was a slow process. And without anyone to quickly translate or help, it went all the slower. And pulling out her new journal while on the back of a horse wasn’t always easy or convenient. A few ties the two of them certainly got frustrated, but Serana at least kept at Casil’s side and tried her best to make it easier on the bosmer.

Based on Isran’s information, Casil and Serana were heading to the north west, towards Dragon Bridge. With a little luck, they hoped to intercept the carriage and the scholar, and with a bit more luck the scholar would be one of the Moth Priests they were looking for. But Casil had a sinking feeling things would not be that easy, or go that well.

For awhile, Serana and Casil had debated on if Casil should give reading it a shot. She had, after all, looked at one before in order to learn Dragon Rend… but Casil wasn’t fully sure what she saw in the Scroll counted as actually  _ reading  _ it. In fact, she was fairly sure that she had just gone back in time, or had a window to the past ripped open for her to see, instead of scrying any information out of all the other unknowable and confusing symbols she had briefly seen when opening it. That was the kind of stuff that the Moth Priests must know how to do, which was not at all what she was trained for or understood. And Casil was not exactly privy to losing her eyesight as well. She was mute, and the bosmer wasn’t fond of the idea of losing another sense.

Serana couldn’t blame her. The woman had enough on her plate as it was. Though communication between the two was slow and frustrating at times, the two enjoyed each other’s company. A change of pace. Someone who wasn’t patronizing. Someone who at least treated them like another real person. 

Casil wondered why Serana had stood up for her on their way back to Serana’s castle. She had no reason to. Casil was hoping that Serana didn’t feel like she owed Casil anything for being saved, but Casil was starting to feel like the vampire genuinely enjoyed her company. Which was about the only person since Sterlas that Casil could say felt that way. She wasn’t sure about Jenassa; the woman kept her emotions under wraps, along with her general opinion on things like that. She was loyal and a very defensive sellsword, for sure, but Casil wasn’t sure how much Jenassa really enjoyed being around her. She did come back to find her, Casil supposed, but she had a hard time believing anyone could enjoy being around her. And Miraak? Miraak was a disaster. As usual, she shoved the thought of him out of her mind.

Those words had stung, and Casil did not want to see him right now. She did not want him to find her, she did not want to talk to him. If he cared, he could think on his actions alone for awhile. And if he didn’t, she hoped that would be the last she’d see of him. The idea tugged at her heartstrings, but she knew it would be for the best.

She reached into her bag, producing her journal. ‘Let’s head to the inn when we get to Dragon Bridge to see if they’ve seen anyone.’

Serana nodded  her head in agreement. “I hope you don’t mind if I wait out here. I know people are… a bit on edge because of other vampires,” she admitted, a frown tugging on the corners of her mouth.

Casil nodded. She understood. She was grateful Serana came with her at all. Casil had taken the risk to flee Skyrim on her own before, and she’d been lucky she hadn’t encountered trouble. She missed when she didn’t care or was less frightened of the road or traveling, but since Mora’s attack Casil was absolutely paranoid. No doubt just what he wanted, she bitterly thought.

The two rounded a corner, and their eyes fell on a toppled carriage. Pieces of wheel and wood littered the road, creating a clear trail where the carriage initially landed to where it now lay. Both horses that had been pulling it lay dead, a pool of blood forming around either body from deep gashes in their necks and bites at their legs and haunches. The driver lay behind the carriage, clearly having fallen out of the cart before being run over. A few feet away lay the remains of what Casil guessed to be a vampire as well. A handful of crows were picking at the corpses or perched on the overturned vehicle, cawing at the two approaching mortals before taking to the sky in a tornado of black feathers.

Serana quietly cursed as the two dismounted their horses, quickly tying them to a nearby tree before moving to investigate the crash. 

Casil moved over to the carriage’s exposed door, carefully trying to open it up. She climbed up on the remains of one wheel, looking into the empty interiors. Nothing. A handful of books and paper lay scattered where they’d been thrown, though Casil did note that one of the books that lay in the cluttered mess was  _ The Effects of the Elder Scrolls. _

“Do you think this was the person we were looking for?” Serana asked, worried.

Casil carefully backed back down, nodding her head. Serana glanced to the vampire body, before back to Casil.

‘Looks like your family members got to him before we did,’ she wrote after grabbing her journal. She ran a hand through her hair after letting the leather bound journal fall to her side, sighing.

Serana surveyed the wreckage, sighing as well as she put her hands on her hips.

They should have left earlier. Casil cursed herself, feeling guilty for taking so long to get going on what Serana had found. If she’d headed out earlier, they would have found their guy. Casil could tell the bodies were fairly fresh, no more than half a day old. 

Serana crouched down next to the vampire’s remains, rummaging through their things. She pulled out a note, carefully unfolding it. Casil walked over to her, looking the note over as well.

“At least they forgot to clean up their trail,” Serana said, lifting the note for Casil to read it better. 

 

_ I have new orders for you. _

_ Prepare an ambush just south of the Dragon Bridge. Take the Moth Priest to Forebears’ Holdout for safekeeping until I can break his will. _

_ -Malkus _

 

‘Do you know where that is or who that is?’ Casil asked Serana, folding the paper to tuck into a pocket at the back of the journal.

Serana nodded. “It’s not far from here, if I remember right. I remember my father mentioning Malkus’s name before I left as well, but beyond that I don’t know anything about him. Vampire, obviously,” she said with a slight chuckle. “I don’t know how much more we need to know besides that at this point. I doubt they’ll freely give up the Moth Priest.”

‘So it won’t bother you if I kill people your family knows? Or your family members?’ Casil asked.

Serana shifted, adjusting her hood. “...At this point, I guess we just have to do what’s needed to stop this. Whatever  _ this  _ is,” she said with a sigh. 

Casil started to head back to her horse, before pausing to look back at Serana.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Casil asked.

Serana walked passed her, untying her horse before climbing onto the beast’s back. “I… my father and I have never gotten along or seen eye to eye. And I don’t… I don’t agree with what he’s trying to do,” she said, looking down at the back of the horse. “I mean, you heard how he talked to me when I came back right? After my mother had to lock me away to keep me safe?” She raised her head to give Casil a hard, unhappy look.

Casil nodded, untying her own horse before climbing up. She understood that. Serana’s father did not seem like a particularly nice man, nor did the rest of her ‘family’ seem like great people to be around. She looked to Serana, letting the vampire take lead. Still, she couldn’t help but feel pity for Serana that it would probably have to end with the death of her family. 

 

Casil and Serana pushed through the undergrowth, heading off the path and down a slope that lead towards part of the river. 

“It shouldn’t be too far. It’s next to the river, I think,” Serana said, slowing her horse down. “We should continue on foot.”

Casil nodded in agreement, hopping off to hide the horses in the brush and trees. Once the two mounts were secured, the two continued slowly down the hill. Sure enough, the ruins of a old fort began to peek out from the underbrush and overgrown forest. A balcony jutted out crookedly over the water. Casil let fire light up in her hands, and Serana summoned ice around her’s. 

“I’m ready when you are,” Serana said, giving the bosmer a nod. Casil tried to scan a bit more from where they stood, but the plants and angle made it too hard to see. She gathered her wits, before carefully heading down into the fort ruins. Just inside, in a large entry room, a vampire with a pair of death hounds patrolled across the hallway. One of the dog’s heads turned when Casil reached the side of the ruins, and began to growl. Casil whirled around the corner, sending a pair of fireballs into the vampire before he could sound any sort of alarm. The vampire dropped into a pile of ash, and the two death hounds charged.

Serana hurled a ice spike at one, impaling the beast through the face. It dropped, sliding forward to her feet. The other did not halt its charge, and Casil had to jump aside to avoid its terrifying teeth-crammed mouth. She whirled to kick it in the side, knocking it over before she threw a large fireball to finish it off.

Serana gave Casil a nod, turning to the death hound Casil had just killed. She took a deep breath, before magic shimmered around her hands and the death hound’s body.

So Serana was a necromancer as well? Casil seemed to beam at the realization, but now was not the time to discuss it. She carefully moved forward, staying close to the wall. They rounded the corner to a surprisingly empty room, before making their way quickly across the bridge that covered a stream in the fort. The fort winded further into the hillside, before opening up into a larger room. Stairs winded back and forth to a larger platform where Casil could vaguely make out strange glowing rocks and a assortment of magic dancing along in a sort of sphere up ahead.

“The more you fight me, the more you will suffer, mortal,” a man hissed, standing in front of the sphere of magic.

“I will resist you monster!  I must!” Cried another voice.

“We need to get going. This is bad,” Serana whispered. Casil nodded in agreement, taking a step into the room before immediately stepping back. 

One vampire drew their sword, holding it up to Casil and Serana. “Well well well, I didn’t think to see you here,” he hissed, looking Serana over.

Serana answered with a ice spike, sending the vampire back.

“You traitor!” Another vampire howled, lunging forward. They were taken down by Serana’s resurrected death hound, pushing them back as well. Casil winced as a blade cut across her shoulder, and she ducked down to avoid a clawed hand from striking her face. She brought fire to their side, causing the vampire to hiss and flinch back. She tried to hit him with another fireball, but he dodged out of the way and brought his sword back towards her. She ducked, causing the blade to slam into the wall behind her. The vampire winced in pain, and Casil used the opportunity to hurl a large fireball into his face. The creature dissolved into ash, giving Casil a chance to see what was going on. The death hound had died rather quickly it seemed, but Serana had slain two of the other three vampires. The third soon joined them with a three foot icicle through the chest.

Serana pushed her hair out of her face, motioning for Casil to hurry up the steps. She turned to start running, hurrying up the steps to their target. 

A fireball came hurling towards Casil, brushing into her shoulder. She winced, glad she absorbed a good chunk of the magicka instead of taking the full hit. Malkus was at the top of the stairs,  brandishing an axe in his free hand.

“You’re too late,” he snarled. “The Moth Priest’s will has already broken, and as soon as we get the Elder Scroll back…”

Casil blocked another fireball with a ward, returning the attack. Malkus moved out of the way, before being caught off guard by a ice spear from Serana. He hissed in pain, staggering back. 

“You would betray your own kind-” Malkus began, but neither Casil nor Serana were in the mood to listen. The two’s next attacks silenced the orc vampire, reducing him to ash as well.

Which left the Moth Priest. Casil healed up the gash on her arm, crouching down to scoop up a banded, glowing rock that had dropped into the ash with the rest of the vampire’s effects. 

“There looks like there’s a place for that up there,” Serana said, motioning to a rock a few feet away. She glanced to the man that was keeled over in the forcefield a few feet away. “We should get him out of there and get back to the Fort before more vampires come.”

Casil nodded in agreement, hurrying to place the rock in what she assumed was its place. The barrier slowly dissolved, and the priest staggered to their feet.

“I serve my master’s will… but my master is dead… and his enemies will pay!” the priest wailed, turning to stagger towards Serana. 

Serana grabbed the simple priest by the collar of his shirt, before bringing his face into her knee. She let him go, taking a few steps back towards Casil as the priest collapsed with a cough. Casil winced, but was glad Serana hadn’t decided to just kill the man. The two women waited, ready to take action if the priest attacked but to their relief, he raised a hand in defeat.

“That… that wasn’t me you were fighting,” the imperial gasped. “I could see through my eyes, but I couldn’t control my actions. Thank you for breaking that foul vampire’s hold over me.” He carefully sat on his knees, taking a minute to catch his breath and to collect himself from getting kneed in the face.

Serana sighed in relief. “Are you alright?” She asked, crouching down in front of the man. Casil kept standing, keeping an eye out in case more vampires showed up.

The Moth Priest nodded, rubbing his bloody nose. “I’m quite alright, besides… this, really. Thank you. Dexion Evicus is my name. I’m a Moth Priest of the White Gold Tower. These vampires claimed they had some purpose in store for me, but wouldn’t say what,” he said, finally pushing himself to his feet. He looked Serana and Casil over. “Probably hoping to ransom me, the fools. Now Tell me, whom do you represent, and what do you want with me?”

Serana threw Casil a look, giving the bosmer a chance to pipe in if she wanted. Casil waved a hand in dismissal to the vampire. She would probably handle it better. Serana turned her focus back to Dexion, making the man visibly shift in discomfort.

“My name is Serana, and this is Casil,” she said, motioning to the bosmer. “We’re here… representing the Dawnguard. We need you to read an Elder Scroll.”

Dexion blinked, before his eyes widened in surprise. “I.. You have an Elder Scroll? Remarkable!” He exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “If my knowledge of history serves me, I recall that the Dawnguard was an ancient order of vampire hunters, correct?”

Casil nodded her head.

Dexion looked Serana over again. “Well, I will be happy to assist you with your Elder Scroll. If it weren’t for you, I’m sure i’d be in a much worse place,” he remarked. “Just tell me where I need to go… provided of course that I can get out of this cave safely.”

“Fort Dawnguard, just to the north east of Riften. And it should be, but we can escort you out and to the fort if you’d like,” Serana offered.

“Well, I suppose if my carriage has been ruined and my horses are dead that would be quite helpful,” Dexion said. He grimaced at the blood on his hand, before nodding to the two. “I’m ready to leave if you are… though I request that we stop by the carriage if it’s still there, to gather a few of my personal belongings.”

“Of course,” Serana said, starting to head down the stairs. “Then we should be on our way. I don’t want to be caught by more vampires.”

Dexion followed, giving Casil a uneasy look as she waited to follow behind him. “Ah, but aren’t you a vampire yourself?”

Serana glanced back at him. “Yes. It’s complicated,” she replied simply, before returning her focus ahead.

“A-ah, right,” he said, before falling quiet. It would be an odd group, he could tell.

 

Casil was surprised, a day and a half later, to spot Jenassa in Riverwood. The dunmer looked distress, sitting on the porch of the inn Casil recalled Delphine working at. Jenassa squinted when she caught sight of Casil, before her eyes widened. She hopped up from her spot, jumping the patio railing before rushing over to the bosmer.

“You’re safe!” She exclaimed. “I’ve been looking all over for you-” she began before noticing Serana, and the stranger riding on Serana’s horse. 

Casil sighed, pulling her hood up a bit more as she gave a uneasy glance up and down the street. ‘I’m sorry for leaving, Jenassa. I just-’

The dunmer waved a hand. “I understand, sera. I’m just happy to know you’re safe.”

Serana pulled her horse next to Casil, smiling at Jenassa. “Good to see you again.”

Jenassa nodded her head. “I could say the same. Though I question how you two bumped into each other, and what is going on.”

‘He’s a Moth Priest. We need him for something. Somewhere else. Where we’re heading,’ Casil signed. ‘We need to keep moving.’

Jenassa furrowed her brow, before nodding again. “Let me get my horse, and I will join you…” she hesitated. “If you will allow it.”

‘Of course,’ Casil signed, averting her gaze. ‘I’m sorry I left you like that.’

“I told you,” Jenassa said with a sigh, “It’s fine. I do not blame you either for leaving like that.” She turned back towards the inn, hurrying up the steps. “I will meet you on the edge of town if you’d like. I just need to grab my things.”

Casil nodded, before moving her horse forward. Dexion leaned over to glance past Serana, brow raised. “A friend?” He questioned.

Casil nodded, keeping an eye out as they passed down the streets. She would not be surprised if Miraak had at least one cultist in every city and large town to watch out for her. It was clear he was searching, and she did not want him to catch her. Casil could not tell if any of the people she saw were his cultists though. If they were, they weren’t wearing their glaringly obvious garb. She urged her horse to pick up his pace to the edge of town. The three waited for Jenassa to join them, before heading off towards the Fort.

 

“So, you are the dragonborn,” Dexion repeated, resting his cup of tea in his lap as he looked across the fire at the bosmer.

She nodded her head simply, picking at the grass in front of her knees.

Dexion let out a hum. “And you’ve managed to rope yourself into another prophecy.” He chuckled.

‘Seems that way,’ Casil signed, to which Jenassa repeated.

“Can’t stop yourself from being a hero now?” Dexion asked.

Casil raised a brow, before shaking her head. ‘I’m hardly a hero. I didn’t do much to stop Alduin… if it weren’t for Miraak, we might all be dead by now.’

Dexion frowned, taking a sip of his tea. He glanced to Jenassa and Serana, and Jenassa shook her head.

“That’s hardly true. That good for nothing dragonborn would still be trapped if it weren’t for you,” she stated.

Casil shrugged. ‘Still wouldn’t have been able to Dragonrend Alduin if it weren’t for him.’

“I hadn’t been aware that there  _ was  _ another dragonborn,” Dexion said, scrunching his brow. “It’s very uncommon for there to ever be more than one at any given time, or so history tells us.” 

‘He was the first dragonborn. He was trapped in Apocrypha for some four thousand or so years,’ Casil explained.

“The first dragonborn?” Dexion seemed quite surprised. “How can you be certain? All the history we know and have read states that Saint Alessia was the first dragonborn. Why wouldn’t we know about a dragonborn that predated her?”

“The Dragon Cult erased him out of history, as far as we know,” Jenassa replied. 

‘He betrayed the dragons, and disappeared. The Skaal seem to be some of the only people who even remotely remember him, and it isn’t even by name. That, and apparently Serana’s father.’

Serana snorted and leaned back. “Miraak hadn’t been that distant of a memory when I was born. You could still find things about him, though even then there wasn’t much. I guess it was just one of those things my father dug up at some point… doesn’t surprise me really. Miraak seems like the kind of person my father might admire.”

Casil rolled her eyes, ripping out a long stalk of grass to start tying it in knots. ‘He can keep him then. I don’t want him back.’

“It sounds like there’s a lot of animosity between the two of you,” Dexion commented.

Casil huffed. ‘He’s a pretentious bastard who wants to take all the credit for himself.’

Dexion hummed again, pulling out a tome that was overflowing with loose papers. “Well, if you’re correct about him being the first dragonborn, then it shouldn’t come as a surprise. Being the first one with such a power must have come quite as a shock to everyone involved. You said the Dragon Cult destroyed his history?” He shuffled in his bag for a ink well and a quill.

Casil nodded. ‘He used to be a Dragon Priest, from what we know. Probably a very strong one. The Skaal call him the ‘traitor’. He turned on the dragons after he had the power to bend them to his will, and the dragons burnt down his temple. At some point he ended up in Apocrypha. Apparently the heros who sent Alduin forward in time during the Dragon Wars wanted Miraak to help them, but he refused to.’ Casil frowned a bit more. Even now, she still didn’t know that  much about Miraak. None of them ever talked about their histories much, but if she wanted to learn anyone’s it was his. 

Dexion’s quill scratched at a empty page, and the Moth Priest nodded his head. “Interesting. Then it would make sense that we know nothing about him; such an offense no doubt was truly worth erasing him from history, in case anyone dared to follow in his stead. Little good that did them in the end, though,” he mused. He glanced up to Casil. “And into a Daedric Prince’s realm…”

Casil nodded again. ‘That’s where I saved him from.’

Dexion made a few more notes, before blowing on the page to dry the ink. “I may have to inquire further about all of these matters, if you don’t mind. For the history books, you might say.”

Casil shifted, before nodding. 

“Just tell him everything you told the Dawnguard earlier,” Serana said encouragingly. 

The bosmer sighed and slouched forward. ‘Just  not used to people caring.’

“How could people not care? You saved everyone from the World-Eater. That’s no small or forgettable task, no matter how you completed it. Like it or not, you won’t be forgotten out of the world. You succeeded,” Dexion insisted.

Casil’s fingers fumbled with a blade of grass as her eyes dropped to the ground. She supposed. It was just attention she wasn’t used to, and still wasn’t sure she deserved.

 

The group arrived at Fort Dawnguard late the next evening. The group waited just long enough to get Dexion set up inside of the fort, before they turned to the matter at hand: reading the Elder Scroll.

Dexion turned the beautiful gold casing in his hand, admiring it. “I really did not think I would ever get the honor of reading one of these, truly,” he said, standing towards the back of the dining hall. Serana, Jenassa, Casil and Isran stood in front or next to him, while many of the other curious Dawnguard members lurked around the corners or in the background. 

“Well, then get to it,” Isran grunted, though Casil through the man a look.

Dexion fidgeted with the case, giving a short laugh. “Ah, of course. Pardon my curiosity. Now, if everyone will please be quiet, I must concen,” he said, before he cleared his throat. With a deep breath, the man carefully pulled the Elder Scroll open. Onlookers watched as the symbols and patterns danced across the page, nonsense to everyone but the man reading it. “I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow. I know this weapon! It is Auriel’s Bow!” he exclaimed, eyes widening. “Now a voice whispers, saying… ‘Among the night’s children, a dread lord will rise. In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will become as one…’ The voice fades and the words begin to shimmer and distort.” Dexion furrowed his brow, almost squinting. “But wait, there is more here. The secret of the bow’s power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls. Yes, I see them now… One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, and the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood.”

The room fell silent, and everyone shifted to look at each other.

Dexion lowered the scroll. “My vision darkens, and I see no more. To know the complete prophecy, we must have the other two scrolls…”

There were sighs of frustration and sorrow. “Where are we supposed to get two more Elder Scrolls?” Serana asked, reaching out to take the scroll back from Dexion. The Moth Priest didn’t seem to notice, and was fumbling to close the Scroll.

Casil frowned, walking forward carefully before waving her hand in front of the man’s face. He did not seem to notice.

“Dexion, you’re-” Serana began, but he sighed and waved a hand.

“Blind, yes. It would seem so,” he took a slow inhale, holding his hands out once Serana took the scroll from his hands. “This… well, is not… fully unexpected. Unfortunate, yes, but… A price I knew I might have to pay for reading the Elder Scrolls. I was too eager to read it, and I did not prepare myself.”

Silence fell on the hall. 

“So we don’t have the Elder Scrolls we need, or anyone who can read them now?” Isran asked.

‘I believe I have one of the scrolls it’s talking about,’ Casil signed. 

Jenassa nodded. “The one you used at the Throat of the World, correct?”

Casil nodded. ‘I hid it afterwards, so Miraak or Alduin couldn’t find it. I know where it is, or should still be. I don’t know about the other one though. But i’m not sure if I can read it.’

“And… I think I know how to find the other one,” Serana added, brow furrowed in thought. “I think… my mother might know where it is, or might even have it.”

“Do you know where she is though?” Jenassa asked.

“She might have left a clue at Castle Volkihar, in the courtyard. That’s the best i’ve got right now.”

Isran snorted. “And the rest of your kin are just going to let you waltz in and look?”

Serana shook her head. “There’s a secret entrance we could use, that used to be used for shipments. We could get in that way. Nobody uses it anymore, haven’t in years. I checked before heading here, in case I needed to sneak someone in.”

“Which leaves reading the scrolls.”

Dexion cleared his throat, carefully trying to sit down at the table next to him. “I may have a solution. There is a place I know of that the Moth Priests used to use to read Elder Scrolls… I may be able to give you the steps to repeat the ceremony yourselves, if you trust me.”

Casil inhaled, before nodding. 

Serana looked around at those present, before folding her arms. “Then that settles it. Casil can get the Scroll she owns, we can try to find my mother, and then Dexion can tell us how to read the scrolls.”

While still nervous, Casil felt significantly more relieved. They at least had some sort of  _ idea  _ of where to find the remaining Scroll and how to read it, but that didn’t guarantee that anything would work or be where it was supposed to. Still, Casil felt she could at least be thankful that they had directions and weren’t left in the dark.

Isran seemed to feel the same. “So be it. I can’t lend you men to help you find the Scroll or the location, but I can watch the ones we have, and Dexion.”

Casil looked to Dexion. ‘Do you know the name of the location that we will need to go to? Or describe it?’

Dexion rubbed his beard carefully. “It’s called the Ancestor Glade. It should have a very unique type of tree in it, canticle trees they’re called. With the bark, Moth Priests are able to attract Ancestor Moths. With them, you should be able to understand the Scroll. It’s an ancient art, and how the Moth Priests earned their name.”

Isran snorted. “You’re telling me that they need to read the Elder Scroll with  _ moths? _ ”

Casil’s eyes lit up though. ‘I think I know where that is!’ She signed in excitement.

The group looked at her in shock. “How?” Serana asked, brow raised skeptically.

‘I went there once, with Sterlas. Several years ago. I found it on accident when I was looking for places to loot,’ she admitted sheepishly.

Serana let out a sigh of relief though. “Well, that’s one less thing to find then. We just need the scroll, and in the meantime I assume you can get us instructions on what to do when we get there?” she asked, directing the question at the now-blind priest.

Dexion nodded, giving them a half smile. “Of course.”

Serana turned to Jenassa and Casil with a sharp-toothed grin. “Then let me know when you’re ready to follow me to Castle Volk-”

The echoing sound of the front doors being slammed open caused Casil and several others to flinch, whirling to face the main hall. Several Dawnguard members seemed to be trying to argue against the entrance, but to no avail.

Casil exhaled loudly as Miraak strode in, angrier then ever.

“ _ You.” _


	62. LXII. Day and Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back on this fic as a whole, there's a lot I realized I rushed, forgot, or could have written better. So i'm curious - should I just rewrite it now (Like actual rewrite, not just edit), or wait till i'm done with this version? Because holy shit I could do better and at least condense the chapters so they aren't like 2 words long lmao; Opinions?

Casil was glad she was able to divert Miraak to another part of the Fort before he flipped out on her, though his entry had enough Dawnguard members anxiously scurrying around or readying weapons. She had to send worried onlookers off several times before finally being able to be alone with Miraak at the furthest corner of the Fort that she could find. Serana, Jenassa and even Isran weren’t too happy about it, but Casil didn’t want to get them involved. This was between her and Miraak, and she needed to deal with this herself.

Miraak reached out to grab her, but Casil slapped his hand out of the way with a stern look. Miraak hissed. “How  _ dare  _ you run away-”

‘I see you’ve come groveling back to  _ me  _ this time,’ Casil signed, ignoring what Miraak was saying.

The sentence caught him off guard. She could see Miraak’s shoulders rise with anger, but she stook firm. 

‘I don’t need you Miraak, and i’m tired of putting up with your shit. If you want to treat me like garbage, you can leave. You came to  _ me  _ this time.’

Miraak tensed, balling his hands into fists. “How  _ dare  _ you…”

Casil shrugged, and went to walk past him. ‘You can leave on your own, or I can have the Dawnguard throw you out.’

Miraak lashed out to grab her, but she anticipated it and sidestepped his grab. Instead, she managed to grab ahold of his robe, using her shoulder to push him into the wall. She gripped the hems of his shirt, trying to pull them upwards as she gave the man a hard look. It was far less intimidating or effective then when he did it to her, but she could only do so much. Miraak’s mask tilted to stare down at her, hands gripping her wrists. He didn’t pull them away, but he kept a firm hold that threatened to break her thin wrists if she tried anything.

Casil wish she could say something, and that she didn’t need her damn hands to communicate as well. She finally pulled her hands away from sharply. ‘Why did you come back to find me? And don’t give me the same damn lies you always tell me because I know they aren’t true.’

Miraak was silent, his mask hiding any sort of expression he might have.

Casil took a shuddery inhale, scanning the features of the mask. ‘How dare  _ you  _ come back here, after treating me like you have. And then you have nothing to say for yourself about it.’

The soft clinking of his pauldrons and gloves were about the only indicator that her statement made the dragonborn shift. “Because you are too naive-”

Casil gripped his robe again and gave him the hardest shake she could, before letting go. ‘Don’t give me that shit,’ she signed, wishing she could spit the words at him. ‘Talk. This is the last chance i’m giving you to talk. And if you don’t, I’m throwing you out and killing you the next time I see you.’

Miraak forced a chuckle. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Casil narrowed her eyes. ‘You came back to  _ me.  _ I would have been more then happy to never see your gods forsaken face again, you arrogant bastard. After all the shit you’ve put me through.’

“Then why are you still willing to talk to me?”

Casil swallowed hard, before inhaling. She shoved him against the wall hard with her shoulder, causing him to gasp in surprise. She pushed him down the wall, hunching over him. ‘Fine. You want to know why?’

Miraak did not fight against her beyond gripping the hem of her shirt, nor did he respond.

‘I’m willing to talk to you because I  _ care  _ about you, Miraak,’ she sighed furiously. ‘Because I know you aren’t a invincible man like you try to pretend you are. Because i’ve seen you when you drop the damn act.’ She inhaled, fighting back tears. Miraak shifted to speak, but Casil gave him a shake to cut him off before raising her hands to talk again. ‘Shut up. Shut up this time. All you do is push me around, Miraak. And I was stupid to let you do that. Ever since the first day we met, you’ve been pushing me around. Like I can’t do anything myself. Like i’m pathetic and useless. I get it. I can’t use the Voice like you can or like other dragons can. I know I had to come get help from your Divines forsaken ass because I couldn’t use the power I was born with. But you know what?’ Fire burned in Casil’s eyes. ‘I get it. You’re mad at me. You keep lying to me and putting on this act because of  _ your  _ mistakes. Because  _ you  _ were supposed to defeat Alduin. They all came to you for your help, and you were the only one who could do it. Maybe you were supposed to be the  _ only  _ dragonborn, but you got so cocky and full of yourself that you made a stupid deal with Hermaeus Mora. And you fucked up and ended up trapped in there.’

Miraak hissed, trying to grab Casil’s hands to get her to stop. She slapped them away, trying to pin his arms while being able to sign still. 

‘No, you get to listen to me this time. You’re mad because I freed your sorry ass. Because without me you’d be trapped in Apocrypha forever, or dead. You’re just selfish and arrogant, and so damn full of yourself that you can’t bear to face the fact that although I needed you, you needed me more. You failed to fulfill your own destiny and you took it out on me, because I needed you to fulfill  _ both  _ of our destinies. Trust me, I wouldn’t have  _ wanted  _ your help if I could avoid it, and if the Divines hadn’t taken my damn voice I would never have needed to. I didn’t choose to be a mute. I’ve never had the  _ chance  _ to be anything but that. But  _ you  _ fucked up your own destiny, Miraak. Because you wanted to be so much more than what you already were. Because you got full of yourself and thought you should be on top of it all, that being a dragonborn meant you should own the world. And what, now you can’t face the fact that I have  _ feelings  _ for you, Miraak?’ She felt a few tears roll down her cheeks. ‘You’re the only other damn dragonborn. You want me to be honest, Miraak? I’m  _ scared.  _ I’m  _ scared  _ to be alone. Because when i’m next to you I feel something that I don’t understand, I feel like a piece of me isn’t missing anymore. And I care about you Miraak. I pity you for what you’ve been through. I pity you for being the first dragonborn. I pity you for the thousands of years Mora held you trapped in that hell. I pity you for detaching yourself so far from reality that we’ve come down to this. That you will just keep lying to me, to yourself, over this. And if you don’t, you’re a damn fool for coming back to me over and over again because I can’t do this anymore Miraak. It hurts me too much.  _ You  _ have hurt me too much. And i’ve still been willing to keep my hand out to you because…’ Casil swallowed hard. ‘I  _ love  _ you.’ She rested her hand against his chest.

The two sat in silence. Casil wiped her face with her sleeve, before lifting her hands to grab his mask. She pulled it away, setting it aside. Miraak averted his gaze, until Casil was the one who lifted his face to look at her. The two locked eyes for a long moment.

‘You don’t have to hide anymore, Miraak. You’re free. You are the master of your own fate again, Miraak. Not the dragons. Not Alduin. Not Hermaeus Mora. Stop trying to hide behind who you used to be. Stop trying to be someone you’re not anymore, or never were. Please. Please.’ Her forehead fell forward, resting against his as she closed her eyes. He did not move. Casil pursed her lips, before slowly pushing herself off of him. ‘I can’t do this anymore. If you want to keep playing that game, then please. Leave. Let me be on my own.’ She swallowed hard, wiping a few more tears away. ‘Because I’m tired of fighting with you. And if you leave now, then… I wish you luck. And if you want to keep hounding me, then know that I will kill you.’

Miraak lowered his gaze as the bosmer finally stepped away, walking down the hall. He heard her turn to head up a flight of stairs, and then the opening of a door somewhere above. His gaze glanced to his mask on the ground next to him, before he pulled a knee up to his chest. 

 

Casil moved to sit up on the highest level of the Fort she could make it to. It was quiet. Miraak’s dragon, a beast who she did not recognize, was roosting in the hills about a mile away. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, casting its last few rays of red and orange light across the fall clouds.

She sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest as she watched the sky slowly change colors. She rested her head against the top of her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs. She’d gotten out what she needed to say to him, and she was not sure what would come of it. She did not want to see him so soon, and it hurt her to have to make a choice like this. But it was for the best, she knew. She felt so foolish for falling for him. She rubbed her cheek against one of her knees, trying to keep herself calm. It was chilly outside, and the clouds threatened rain on the horizon, but she needed the space. She didn’t need Jenassa and Serana pestering her about what happened yet, or for the whole Dawnguard to jump on her or Miraak. She needed some time with her thoughts. She didn’t get that chance before Miraak showed up, and she had just thrown whatever came to her hands at him without much extra thought. 

It wasn’t until the sun had long gone when she heard the door open again followed by the clinking of boots. Casil shifted her gaze from the spots of clear skies and stars to the ground next to her as the footsteps approached her. Silently, Miraak sat down beside her. Casil’s gazed shifted back up to the stars, shifting her head slightly. He did not say anything, but he made no notion to attack her or that he was even angry. 

Casil managed a soft snort. She took it that she’d won the argument. She glanced to him out of the corner of her eye. The nord was focused on the sky as well, legs crossed and hands resting in his lap. 

As angry as she’d been at him, and as scared as she was of him, she felt calm. Her eyes returned to the skies as well. Maybe all she’d needed to do was push him back. 

The two remained beside each other in silence for several more hours, until at last Casil got up. Miraak shifted to glance at her as she stepped away, returning inside. It was far too cold for her to spend the rest of the night out there, and she was emotionally exhausted. Miraak did not move from his spot. 

There was too much for him to still think about.

  
  


[ _ “Mu lost kiin rel, Nahlotfel. Daar los ko sosu. _ _ ”  _ ](-)

[ _ Nii ni fen kos med daar mahfaeraak _ _. _ ](-)

[ _ “Nii los un rinik sil _ _.” _ ](-)

_[Dreh hi hind kos gro daar?](-) _

[ “ _ Zu’u nis qahnaar sili, Nahlotfel. Hi aal ni haalvut nii ol zu’u dreh, nuz wah zu’u nii los suleykaar qalos.” _ ](-)

_[Fen nii kron?](-) _

_ “[Zu’u dreh ni mindok.”](-) _

 

Casil awoke to the slowly increasing sound of activity in the Fort. She shifted, pulling a bear fur over her head. She heard someone walk near her, before she could make out the sound of dishes being set down near her head. Casil tiredly peered out from her furs, squinting at the breakfast Jenassa had just set down next to her.

“You had me worried,” Jenassa said with a sigh, putting her hands on her hips as she loomed over Casil.

Casil yawned and sat up, looking around. ‘Did he leave…?’

Jenassa shook her head. “No, he’s still here. Everyone has been keeping their eye on him, though he hasn’t done much. I don’t know what you said to him, but he is far less angry than I expected.”

Casil picked up the food that was set down next to her, using a fork to shovel eggs into her mouth. ‘If he’s still around, then he’ll stop causing trouble. Because I told him if he keeps wanting to play this game, i’d kill him.’

Jenassa crouched down by the bosmer with a shake of her head. “I don’t understand how you can be so lenient with him, sera.”

Casil lowered her eyes, washing the eggs down with whatever Jenassa had brought her. Cider, she found. ‘It’s hard to explain.’

The dunmer ran a hand through her hair. “As i’ve gathered. If he steps out of line, i’m sure  _ all  _ of us will have our swords drawn before you can even blink.” She straightened herself out. “And I take it that this is going to put a delay in our plans?”

Casil shrugged. ‘I figured I was going to ask Serana if we should scout out the castle and activity before we just charge in there anyways.’

“I suppose that’s fair. And sensible.” Jenassa turned to walk away. “We’ll be in the mess hall, when you’re ready. Serana, Isran, Dexion and I have already been figuring out plans.” 

Casil shoved another forkful of eggs into mouth, watching Jenassa leave. She’d love to leave and just get things moving along, but with Miraak around… she needed to talk to him again, or at least figure out what he was planning to do now. The woman finished her food, pulling on a new set of clothing before she hurried out towards the mess hall. 

Casil cut the corner, and paused. Miraak leaned in the hallway, waiting for her. He had donned his mask again, obscuring any obvious emotion he might have. She hesitated, feeling fear jump into her throat suddenly. He did not seem mad, like Jenassa said, but she wondered if anything she said the prior day had any effect on him. Clenching her hands into fists, she tried to confidently walk towards him. ‘So, what will it be?’ Casil braced herself for his response.

The man pushed himself off of the wall he leaned against. “I’m staying,” he replied simply. He reached out, resting his hands on the sides of Casil’s upper arms for a moment. Casil inhaled, until he pulled her into a tight but short embrace. 

Casil tensed, before slowly relaxing. The embrace ended as suddenly as it started, and the man turned from her before anyone might catch what he had done. 

“Your friends are waiting for you,” he said, folding his arms behind his back before walking into the mess hall.

Casil rubbed her arm. Of course, he was going to be short about it. She wondered if he was embarrassed in some form. She followed behind him though. Her compatriots had taken up the far side of one of the tables, and had a large map spread out in front of them. Miraak did not go to join them, instead moving to a corner to watch. Casil glanced at him as she passed with a furrowed brow, but did not invite him to the table. She wasn’t sure if he was interested in the planning, or if the others were interested in working with him.

“It’s about time you got up,” Serana teased as Casil found a spot to sit, looking over the map.

Casil waved a hand. ‘If you wanted me up earlier, you could have let me know,’ she signed. ‘What have we gotten figured out so far?’

Jenassa smoothed a page out that she’d furiously been taking notes on. “We got word this morning that there has been an increase in vampire attacks.”

“We believe they’re looking for Dexion here,” Isran said, motioning to the Moth Priest.

Casil glanced at the poor Priest. The man had donned a blindfold since the previous day, and was clearly still trying to adjust to being blind. “It doesn’t seem like they know that I’m here…”

“Or they’re hoping to thin out the Dawnguard forces enough to attack here, if they  _ do  _ know you might be here,” Serana corrected. 

“Regardless,” Isran grunted, “heading out now to their base would be ill advised… even with a insider,” he said, glancing at Serana.

Casil rubbed her face in thought, glancing over the markings of vampire attacks that had been pinned to the map on the table. 

“So that leaves our Elder Scroll,” Jenassa said, folding her arms. “Which… only  _ you  _ know where it is.”

Casil nodded, glancing at the other three. ‘It’s between the Throat of the World and Windhelm. I’m not sure if I should wait to get it, or grab it now.’

The other four took a moment to weigh the options. 

“We should hold off, just for a little bit. I don’t think it’d be safe for us, or you, to go out there to get it. There’s probably plenty of vampires waiting around here,” Serana suggested.

Casil narrowed her eyes in thought, before glancing over her shoulder at Miraak. The man tilted his mask slightly, and the three that could glanced at him. ‘We might be able to get there and back quickly with a dragon though,’ she said, moving her body so Miraak could read what she said. ‘If Miraak is willing to help.’ 

The Dragon Priest shifted with a hum. “It would be unwise to immediately return here then… or to leave from here and go directly to the Scroll. You would make it obvious that we have what they’re looking for.”

Isran nodded in agreement. “They don’t need any more of a reason to attack the Fort. While I trust my men to keep the blood suckers back, the fewer we have targeting us directly the better.”

Casil glanced between Miraak and the others, waiting for some sort of consensus. 

Jenassa shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “But i’m not sure if all of us leaving would be a good idea either.”

Casil drummed her fingers against the wood table in thought. ‘Miraak and I could leave for a few days, grab the Scroll, and come back right away perhaps.’

“Do you think that would be wise?” Jenassa asked.

Casil furrowed her brow, sensing that Jenassa was directing the question more at leaving with Miraak alone then anything. She could see that Serana might share the dunmer’s feelings on the matter. ‘What would you suggest then?’

Jenassa swallowed, shifting back in her seat. “I believe you should wait a few days, then decide if you head out after we receive more information. You have a good handful of scouts and informants out, do you not?” Jenassa asked, directing the question no to Isran.

Isran nodded. “They should be back periodically over the next few days. I plan to have a steady rotation of people coming and going, to keep information flowing.”

Jenassa glanced back at Casil expectantly. 

“If nothing else,” Dexion piped in, shifting uneasily in his seat as he fidgeted with his blindfold, “the vampires will be unable to get any closer to their goal. We don’t seem to have any reason to believe that they know the location of either of the two remaining Scrolls, and it’s clear that they have, or had, no other way of reading them besides me… and i’m not very useful for that anymore,” he said with a sad laugh.

Casil sighed. ‘We’ll wait a few days then.’

Jenassa and Serana seemed to relax at that. “Alright,” the vampire said, pulling back from the map. “We can use that time to prepare for whatever excursions we might have. I’ll see if I can draw up a actual map of the castle while i’m at it,” she said, glancing at Isran. “Might come in handy.”

Isran gave Serana a somewhat weary look, but nodded. “I will have one of my men get you the supplies you’ll need,” he said, pulling away. “If this meeting is over though, I have other things to get to.”

“If something changes, we will let you know,” Jenassa said, and the redguard nodded before leaving the table.

Casil leaned back, before glancing to Miraak again. ‘If you’re done trying to hound me down, could you at least put those dragons and cultists to use?’

Serana folded her arms, leaning on the table as she wearily eyed the old dragonborn.

Miraak did not move from his spot in the corner, but he did shift his weight to his other leg. “If you don’t plan to take off recklessly again,” he grunted.

Casil narrowed her eyes a bit. She did not want him to start playing this game again. ‘If  _ you  _ don’t act like an asshole,’ she signed, but Jenassa talked over her.

“I hate to agree with him,” Jenassa grumbled, “but we can’t risk you running off again.”

Casil gritted her teeth. Of course Miraak would find a way to pin it on her again anyways. The woman gave a exasperated exhale, looking the Dragon Priest over. ‘No, I won’t.’

Miraak nodded. “Then so be it. I will order them to bring me back information on the vampires,” he said, shifting to leave the room.

Casil folded her arms like a grumpy child, moving to rest on the table. ‘So what now then?’

“We just bide our time. Get ready for attacks and plan out what we’re going to do here,” Serana said, watching Miraak leave. Once she heard the main door open and close again, she directed her attention back to Casil. “So, what did you say to him to get him to back down so easily?”

Casil raised a brow, looking at the vampire from over her arms. Serana had a coy smile that the bosmer didn’t like. ‘I gave him a piece of my mind. Told him if he wanted to keep playing games I’d kill him,’ she signed, before returning her arms to their crossed state.

“I was surprised to see that he went quietly,” Jenassa said, getting up to pour herself something to drink. Casil shrugged at the comment.

Serana moved to rest her head gracefully on a hand. “You sure you want to go out with him to get the Scroll? I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt for one of us to come along,” she said.

Casil frowned, before shaking her head. ‘I’ll be fine... ‘

“What about Hermaeus Mora?” Jenassa asked.

Casil stiffened. ‘We’ll have a dragon.’ The two women frowned, and Casil shook her head again. ‘Look, we have a few days to figure it out still. Please don’t push me on it.’ She got up from her seat, shrinking back out of the room to head to the roof again.

Serana got up to follow, but Jenassa reached out to stop the woman. “Give her some space,” Jenassa said lowly, and with a reluctant sigh Serana nodded.

 

The dark clouds overhead threatened heavy rain soon, and Casil could see the downpour in the distance. With a few spare branches, planks and canvas, Casil constructed herself a simple cover to sit under near the edge of one of the walls. She kicked a box over to sit on, crossing her legs as she sat on top. She could see Miraak a little ways away speaking to his dragon. The Dawnguard kept watch at various posts, while some trained outside with their crossbows in a makeshift range at the edge of the fort grounds. Beyond the gate was a small camp that seemed to be growing with each passing day. People looking for shelter and protection, Casil had found. People looking for protection from the vampires. Had anyone done something like that for the dragons? She scrunched her brow. If they had, there had been a lot less obvious spot to go. She certainly didn’t make her backyard known to random villagers.

She wasn’t sure who was more irritated at Miraak’s sudden return, herself or Jenassa and Serana. She also wasn’t sure who was more surprised at the fact that he hung around still. The bosmer laced her thin fingers together. Regardless, her complicated and conflicted feelings aside Miraak was a good asset and there was no denying that. His command over a decent number of dragons and a small cult was useful, barring the fact that he himself was a deep well of knowledge and talent… even if you had to swim through a sea of arrogance and pride to get it. Vampires were tough, but dragons were tougher. Dragons also made much better, quicker mounts then horses, even if Casil wasn’t particularly fond of riding the beasts. She’d feel much safer with one or two of the monsters around if vampires were lurking in the hills… and Mora was lurking Divines knew where. Everywhere and nowhere. In Apocrypha, where he could read fate or whatever it was the tangle of tentacles did. 

She did want to get the Scroll soon, as well as stop by her house. She left with whatever she happened to have on hand when Miraak had confronted her days earlier, which wasn’t much. She doubted her house was safe right now, but if they could drop in with a dragon it might give her enough time to at least grab  _ some  _ of her things that she needed. Casil rubbed her lower lip, absentmindedly tracing one of the scars that traversed its. She had more help here to fight these vampires then she had to fight the dragons, she noted. Alduin had seemed like the biggest threat, but she was starting to wonder how big of a threat the vampires  _ actually  _ were. She’d defeated Alduin with the need of only one Elder Scroll that she didn’t even have to read, but this? They needed  _ three  _ Scrolls to even  _ understand  _ what it was they were facing. If nothing else, Serana’s father would need them as well. He seemed to be aware of the basis of the prophecy, but not the details. If he had known the details, he would not have been worried about the Elder Scroll Serana carried, nor would they have bothered to try to brainwash Dexion. So the fewer people that knew the prophecy, the better she figured. Less people that could be kidnapped or who could spill it on accident. Everything was becoming much bigger than she’d initially expected, when she thought joining the Dawnguard might be a decent part time thing.

Casil furrowed her brow. 

If she hadn’t joined, how would anyone have found the last scroll? Casil was the only one who knew where it was, and she hadn’t particularly disclosed the location to anyone. Only Jenassa might even remotely be aware of where it could be hidden, and even then she’d have a wide stretch of land to guess from. Casil had hidden it well too, so there was no way someone who wasn’t  _ looking  _ for it would probably find it. And besides Jenassa, only the Greybeards probably knew that she even  _ had  _ a Elder Scroll. The Mage’s College  _ might  _ have an idea that she had it because she asked about it, but would have no definitive proof that she  _ did  _ have it. 

So did she ever have the option  _ not  _ to join the Dawnguard? Casil swallowed hard, wringing her fingers as she watched Miraak walk back towards the Fort, his dragon taking to the sky. Was this  _ also  _ part of her fate? Did she ever  _ really  _ have control over these things?

Casil felt a shiver roll up her spine, which she quickly tried to pass off as the cold weather as rain started to patter onto the canvas and stone. 

Was Hermaeus Mora really privy to everything that would happen to her?

_ It is inevitable. _

The Daedric Prince’s voice resonated in Casil’s head, and she shook it before bringing her arms up to hug herself. No, she did not believe that. Being a part of the Dawnguard was her choice. If she had not joined, perhaps nobody would find the scroll and the prophecy would take much longer to ever see the light of day. The Dawnguard and the vampires would go back and forth, but neither side would ever be able to find the last piece of the puzzle and that’s just how it would be. Casil could have gotten the money she needed to leave Skyrim and move to Elsweyr. Her and Miraak could have split their own way and maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with her  _ own  _ emotions about him, or maybe he would have loitered around with her. She didn’t know.

Casil just didn’t want to believe that everything she did was already mapped out, and that Hermaeus Mora might know exactly what was going to happen.

“You seem distressed.”

Casil jumped at the sudden voice, turning to look back at Miraak. The man pushed the canvas up to pass under it, moving to sit beside her next to the box.” Jenassa and Serana said you might be up here,” he said, reaching up to pull his mask off.

Casil fumbled with her sleeve, looking out to the valley below. She didn’t respond.

Miraak looked up to her, scanning her features. He reached up, putting a hand on her arm. “There’s something on your mind. What is it?”

Casil glanced down, shaking her head. ‘It’s nothing.’

The nord scoffed. “You’re upset that i’m here.”

Casil looked at him in surprise, shaking her head again. ‘It’s not that-’

“Then what is it?”

Casil sighed. He wasn’t going to drop it, she figured. She ran a hand through her hair. ‘I don’t like to think that Hermaeus Mora knows what’s going to happen. That everything we do was already determined before we made our choices.’

Miraak hummed, dropping his hand to hold the mask in his lap. He turned it in his hand until Casil tapped his shoulder for his attention again.

‘Do you believe in fate, Miraak?’

His gaze hardened on her for a moment. “I believe your fate is what you make of it,” he replied after a pause, turning to look back at his mask.

Casil wondered if that was really what he thought. Her fingers wrung together again, exhaling. 

“Scholars, before the records were destroyed, once wrote that Akatosh had intended for me to be the one to slay Alduin,” Miraak spoke, running a finger over the hard curve of his mask. Casil could hear the heaviness in his voice. “...Perhaps I was supposed to be the only Dragonborn… but… I did choose a different path. If our fate was unchangeable, Casil,” he glanced to her. “Then you and I would not be sitting here together.”

Casil pursed her lips hard, before nodding. She raised her hands, hesitating before speaking. ‘I’m… sorry for yesterday. What I said.’

Miraak gave a low, bitter chuckle. “No, I deserved it. You… weren’t wrong, what you said,” he said, gaze shifting to the rain that fell outside of the small cover. Casil could see his jaw tense as he pondered on what to say next. He was carefully choosing his words and what he wanted to say. “The past few weeks… have…” he trailed off again, considering what he was going to say. 

Casil reached over to place a hand on his shoulder until he looked to her. ‘You don’t need to hide things, Miraak.’

The man’s gaze fell, though it was difficult to tell. He rested the mask against his legs, reaching a hand up to run through his hair. “I have never been one who has dealt well with my own emotions, as i’m sure you can imagine,” he said, giving another forced chuckle. “I’m afraid the thousands of years I spent in Apocrypha did not help.”

Casil managed a smirk. ‘I noticed. You like to hide behind a mask.’

“Call it a habit.”

Casil leaned over to pick his mask up. ‘Habits are meant to be broken,’ she replied after spending a moment to turn the mask in her hands.

“If only it were that easy,” he mumbled, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned over. 

Casil got up. She pushed the box away so she could sit down next to Miraak, setting the mask down beside her. ‘Because it’s a part of you.’

Miraak hummed, closing his eyes. “My name comes from the mask, not the other way around,” he said. “The other part of my life… is but a fraction of who I am, so small and distant that I can hardly remember it. It is not that easy, to just… discard.” His shoulders slouched a bit. “No matter how much I wish I could.”

Casil scanned his face. He looked very…  _ human,  _ in that moment. A worn, tired, weary face covered with scars and wrinkles of age. Lit by the faint grey light filtering through the rainy clouds overhead. A mortal human, under those dragon scales. Casil leaned her head against him, waiting for him to finally glance back at her. She simply held out her hand to him. 

Miraak’s gaze lingered on it, before he finally took her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"Mu lost kiin rel, Nahlotfel. Daar los ko sosu."** \- We were born to dominate, Nahlotfel. That is in our blood.
> 
>  **Nii ni fen kos med daar mahfaeraak.** \- It doesn’t have to be like that forever.
> 
>  **“Nii los un rinik sil.”** -It is our very nature.
> 
>  **Dreh hi hind kos gro daar?** \- Do you wish to be bound to that?
> 
>  **“Zu’u nis qahnaar sili, Nahlotfel. Hi aal ni haalvut nii ol zu’u dreh, nuz wah zu’u nii los suleykaar qalos.”** \- I cannot resist my nature, Nahlotfel. You may not feel it as I do, but to me it is a powerful influence. 
> 
> **Fen nii kron?** \- Will it win?
> 
>  **“Zu’u dreh ni mindok.”** \- I do not know.


	63. LXIII. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut @ end of chapter.

Jenassa shifted, leaning against the railing as she sipped her drink. Below, Casil and Miraak sparred. Miraak had insisted in teaching Casil some sort of melee combat while they were laying low, after her inability to fight the lurker who had come within inches of killing her. Which in Casil’s defense, Jenassa thought, she had her knife removed early in the fight. Nonetheless, Miraak seemed eager to teach the younger dragonborn how to fight properly with swords, claiming that it’s a skill she should know and that as a smith, it was crucial if she wished to make good weaponry. While Jenassa didn’t doubt that, she didn’t really think Casil cared about smithing weaponry as much as she cared about melting it down. Casil had repaired Jenassa’s armor early on when they had first met, as well as made her a rather nice sword, but her smithing interests seemed to be much more aligned with destroying then making.

Casil missed dodging a blow from Miraak’s stick, giving the bosmer a good hit to the side. She felt to the ground, wincing as Miraak scolded her for getting clumsy. 

The dunmer rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. She was irritated he was back, and immediately hopped back into Casil’s life. She still was not sure what he had said to her that had caused her to leave so suddenly, but it could not have been good and probably was not worthy of such easy forgiveness.

She didn’t notice right away when Serana joined her at the railing, watching the two dragonborn spar below. A few Dawnguard members watched from the various halls that branched off from the main entry the two fought in, and one or two lurked on the opposite side of the railing from Serana and Jenassa.

Serana rubbed the underside of her chin as Casil got back up, taking her stance again for another round of beating.

“I don’t quite understand those two,” Serana said in a hushed voice, glancing to Jenassa.

Jenassa raised a brow, looking to the vampire. She took a sip of her drink. “They’re a mess, is what they are,” she muttered, letting out a heavy sigh.

Serana snorted. “So I’ve gathered. Casil told us her story, about being a Dragonborn… but I have to say, I still don’t fully understand…” she made a waving motion at the two below, “ _ that. _ ”

Jenassa leaned back from the railing, using her foot to hook a chair at the nearby table to sit on. “Do you want my opinion?”

Serana blinked. “If you’re willing to give it. You seem like you’ve been dying to get it out anyways.” The vampire grabbed another chair, dragging it over so she could sit down as well.

Jenassa set the mug of ale down in her lap, glancing down at the dragonborn below as Casil ended up on the floor again. “He’s using her. He has been, and Casil goes with it. That man has beaten and abused Casil, and she keeps going back to him. I’m worried, Serana. She deserves better.”

Serana frowned, leaning against the railing. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”

Jenassa threw Serana a look. “Of course I have. She won’t listen.”

Serana scratched the back of her head. “When I first met the three of you, I can’t say I understood why you kept him around. I guess Casil really has some feelings for him if she puts up with the way he behaves. Divines know I wouldn’t.”

The other woman grunted. “And I  _ don’t.”  _ She gave a heavy sigh, shaking her head. “I don’t know what she sees in him.”

Seranna shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Maybe it’s simply… kinship, you know?”

Jenassa threw her a questioning look.

The vampire watched the two dragonborn exchange blows. “If Miraak really is the only other dragonborn, then he’s the only one of her kind. She might be a wood elf, but it’s… different,” she pursed her lips. “Like when I meet other vampires outside of my clan. I might be a nord by birth, but i’m also  _ not  _ a nord. Maybe it’s the same for her, but unlike me there’s even fewer people that she’ll ever meet that will be like her.”

Silence fell between them for a few minutes. Jenassa sipped her drink, pondering on Serana’s words. “When we first met him, I was hoping that we would never see him again once Alduin was defeated,” Jenassa admitted. “And that seemed to be Casil’s plan as well. The two of them got into more fights than I could count. Bickering, constantly. But after everything was done, and Sterlas was gone…”

“Sterlas?” Serana asked.

“He was a redguard werewolf that traveled with Casil, long before I even met her,” Jenassa explained, a look of remorse crossing her face. “I don’t know how they met, but they were close from what I could gather. Whenever Miraak and Casil got into a fight, he was at least there to help me break it up… or was there to break the silence when the two of them were acting like children.”

Serana chuckled a bit. “What happened to him?”

Jenassa looked at her glass. “Alduin killed him, in Sovengarde. But he’s in Shor’s Hall now, or at least he was when we left. For his help, they allowed him in, and we at least got to say our goodbyes.”

“But it’s been hard without him.”

Jenassa nodded. “Casil took it hard, and without him I’m afraid that keeping those two in check has been near impossible,” she grumbled. “And when they don’t want to work together, they leave me in the middle of it.” 

Serana leaned back in her seat. “You’re a good friend for sticking around then.”

Jenassa looked the vampire over, rolling the edge of the mug against the table. “Casil is… a good person, despite it all. She’s pulled through a lot of situations that I never imagined her surviving. I’ve never been one to care much about those who pay me, but Casil is… different. She’s a fearless warrior. I admire that.”

“Then maybe you don’t have to worry about her so much with him.”

Jenassa frowned slightly, looking down at the table before glancing to the people in question. “It’s hard not to. Casil may be strong, but… Miraak is something different.” She shook her head. “A man that even the dragons feared when they were in power is someone who cannot be trusted. If he were an ordinary man, I would be far less worried… but their disputes have come close to killing one another. How can you not worry when he has the power to devour her very soul?”

Serana shifted her own gaze. “I suppose that’s fair enough. He’s… unique, to say the least. Though I know so little about him, about  _ all of you,  _ that it’s hard to say.”

Jenassa managed a snort. “That is fair as well. Casil made it a point of never talking about her history, as did Sterlas. I never have been much to talk about mine either, and Miraak seems to feel the same.”

Serana chuckled. “I’m surprised you can all trust each other then.”

Jenassa shrugged. “You learn what you need to know of each other. As long as I can trust you to pay me and have my back, I suppose I need nothing else to work together with you. I don’t believe any of us have too much room to judge one another anyways, at the end of the day. People like us don’t end up together on accident. Birds of a feather flock together.”

Serana paused before replying. “Well, if nothing else, I’ll watch your back. It seems like we’ll be in this for the long haul anyways.” She gave Jenassa a slight grin.

“I won’t lie, it’s a relief to hear that,” Jenassa replied, nodding as she finished the last of her drink. “I could use someone to keep those two from killing each other.”

“Consider it done,” Serana chuckled. It was nice to have companions again.

 

News steadily rolled in over the next few days. The vampires had been out on the prowl for the Moth Priest, Serana, the Elder Scrolls, or any scrap of information they could find. The attacks on towns and villages spiked, including a handful of attacks on larger cities and even an attack on the Fort, before they died down again. Whatever they were looking for, they were unable to find. Fort Dawnguard stayed protected, and Serana stayed low so they would not find her or Dexion there.

“Your father seems  _ thrilled  _ that you disappeared with the Elder Scroll,” Jenassa scoffed as the group gathered around the mess hall table.

Casil shoved a slice of bread into her mouth, eyeing the map on the table. ‘We should make our moves while they’re figuring out their next step,’ she signed.

Isran nodded in agreement. “While we’re getting more and more soldiers, the number of people camped outside our walls is also increasing. We need to deal with this menace before it gets out of control.”

“I’m sure my father will do everything in his power to find the scrolls,” Serana said grimly, folding her arms. “It’s only a matter of time before we get overwhelmed if we’re not careful. You’d be surprised how fast we can amass an army.”

Isran gave Serana a weary look. “I’m aware. Which is why I don’t want to give your kin a chance to.”

“Then perhaps our young dragonborn friend should go retrieve the scroll she knows the location of, while the vampires aren’t out wandering as much. It may be easier to break into the palace when they’re on the search again, when there are fewer numbers within their walls,” Dexion suggested.

Serana nodded in agreement. “My father won’t expect for one of the scrolls to be in his own castle. Which… I am still only  _ guessing  _ it is, or that at least there will be a hint to its location there.”

Casil looked to Miraak. ‘Would you be willing to help me reach the scroll then? I need to stop by my house anyways, so we could easily pass our traveling as gaining supplies or visiting other locations so we don’t draw as much attention to ourselves.”

Miraak drummed his fingers against his arm. “I would suggest a few days away from the Fort then.”

Casil glanced to the others. Jenassa gave her a uneasy look, but Casil nodded to Miraak’s suggestion. ‘Not much else we can do anyways. I’ll trust everyone else to keep the Fort held down while i’m gone.’

Jenassa threw Miraak a look. “Only if you’re sure she will be safe.”

“Do you doubt my ability to protect her?”

“Considering we almost died last time,” Jenassa snapped back.

Casil quickly stood up, waving her hands to get them to break it up. ‘With at least one dragon, we should be fine Jenassa. Thank you for your concern,’ she signed. 

Jenassa pursed her lips, brow furrowed into a hard stare. “Only if you are sure  _ he  _ won’t harm you either.”

Miraak bristled, but said nothing. Casil looked at him. ‘If it makes you feel better, I can ask Odahviing to carry us and stay with us. I trust him to keep me safe.’

Jenassa seemed to relax a bit at this. She looked to Miraak, expectantly waiting for his reply.

“So be it,” Miraak grunted, straightening his back. “If he will answer, then he will  _ suffice. _ ”

“Maybe you could bring a few dragons here to watch the fort, or so we can send you a message if something happens,” Serana suggested.

Miraak did not seem thrilled at the use of his resources, but he nodded anyways. He glanced to Casil. “Pack then. We leave as soon as you are ready. We will visit your home first, then my temple. After we give it some time, we can fetch the Scroll.” He turned, heading to walk outside.

Once more, Jenassa and Serana waited for him to exit the building before stopping Casil in the hall.

“Are you sure you’ll be safe, sera?” Jenassa asked, worried.

Casil frowned up at her, nodding. Miraak and her had their spats, and she could not blame Jenassa for being concerned. She was a little herself, but she wanted to give the man one last chance to prove himself to her.

“If we don’t hear from you in five days, we’re going to come searching for you,” Serana said with a nod.

Casil nodded in agreement. ‘If there’s a big change in activity, send one of the dragons to inform us. II don’t want to get caught off guard.’

The two woman nodded, leaving Casil to collect her bag before she moved to join Miraak outside.

Sure enough, the man had called a handful of dragons. She recognized Sulronaazrath and Odahviing, but neither of the other two dragons Miraak had called to their location. Odahviing seemed less than impressed to have to deal with Miraak or the other dragons, but the red dragon lifted his head as Casil exited the Fort.

“ _ Mal dovahkiin,  _ I see that you do not trust the other dragons,” Odahviing sneered, grey eyes scanning the other three.

Sulronaazrath rattled his green scales, eyeing Odahviing uneasily. “You simply serve a different tyrant,” he replied.

Casil pursed her lips, walking to stand beside Miraak. The masked man tilted his head to glance at her. “Are you ready to leave?” Casil nodded, and Miraak glanced at the other three dragons. “Sulronaazrath, Lahfaraansu, Nillotrii, I expect you to watch this Fort in my stead. If you are asked to do something or deliver a message, I expect you to do ask asked. If you don’t, know full well you will be punished when I return,” Miraak said coldly, before walking over to Odahviing.

Odahviing pulled his lips back into a snarl as Miraak approached. “ _ Laat dovahkiin  _ first,” he growled. Miraak stiffened, but glanced to Casil. 

The bosmer swallowed. If nothing else, if Miraak  _ did  _ hurt her she could trust Odahviing to tear him to shreds. She walked over, waiting for the dragon to dip his head so she could pull herself onto his neck. Only then did Odahviing let Miraak on, though even then the dragon glowered at the old priest. 

“To what location are we flying to?” Odahviing questioned, lifting his head as he prepared to take flight.

“Casil’s home,” Miraak replied, and the dragon nodded.

“A much more peaceful option then Skuldafn, no?” he chuckled, spreading his great white wings out.

Casil couldn’t help but snort, risking raising her hands before he took off. ‘Only if there’s no vampires waiting for me there.’

Miraak hummed. “Indeed. The vampires may be looking for her there, so be on the lookout.”

Odahviing nodded. “Hold on then. We will arrive in no time.” With that, the dragon took to the sky.

 

Casil was relieved that her house seemed untouched, and nothing seemed to be waiting for her there when they arrived. Odahviing landed in a clearing some feet from her house, accompanying the dragonborns until they reached her door.

“It seems they have not found your home yet, if they are interested in finding you,” Odahviing mused, eyes surveying the property.

Casil nodded. She was also relieved to see that Miraak’s cult had left her house, and had at least left the outside in good shape. Only a few piles of logs and ash remained to notify her that anyone had been camping outside. Carefully, Casil pulled out a key and opened the door.

The inside was the same. They had cleaned up and left the house about how they found it, with few things out of place. Miraak followed next to her, scanning for any sign of a potential ambush. 

“What is it that you need from here?” He asked as she made her way through the entry hall, pushing the bag off her shoulder.

‘Clothing, a few books, a few particular weapons,’ she signed, peering into the dining hall before heading towards the stairs. ‘I didn’t exactly take much with me when I left.’

Miraak grunted. “No, you left rather  _ abruptly. _ ”

She threw him a glance over her shoulder. ‘Did you expect otherwise?’

He did not respond. She rolled her eye, not sure what she was expecting from him. She made her way into her room, moving to grab another small bag to pack some clothing in. Miraak checked the neighboring rooms, before leaning in the doorway to wait until she was done.

‘It would be nice if you at least answered some of my questions,’ she signed, not looking up from her packing.

Miraak’s sigh told her that he had seen her remark, but once more there was silence. 

Casil hesitated, glancing at him nervously. ‘Are you mad at me?’

He shook his head. “No, I am not. I simply do not have anything to say to you about the matter.”

Casil found that hard to believe. She finished packing her clothing, putting the bag on the bed before moving to the library to grab a few books. ‘It makes this very hard you know.’

Miraak tilted his head. “This?”

Casil nodded, pushing a stool over to grab a book from the top shelf. ‘Us.’

He hummed. The silence following the noise made Casil’s skin prickle. Silence, again. Frustrated, Casil shouldered past him as she moved to put the books in with her clothing, before slinging her bag over her shoulder. He avoided answering a lot of her questions before, but this was absolutely out of control. Angrily, Casil walked down the stairs, throwing the bag on the table before heading to the cellar. Miraak followed, stopping her from heading into the basement first until he checked. The urge to keep asking him questions made her fingers twitch, but she knew he wasn’t going to give her an answer. Instead, she finished grabbing what she needed from the cellar and from around the house, before striding outside.

Odahviing waited for them, watching a rather distressed hawk flutter along the house’s roof. His head tilted to look at Casil and Miraak as they exited the house. “Hmm, and to where do you wish to go next? I can’t imagine you called for me for this simple trip,” he rumbled, lowering his head once Casil had finished locking the door.

“My temple,” Miraak responded.

Odahviing pulled his head away before Casil could get on. “What?”

Miraak folded his arms across his chest. “You heard me. I am sure you are aware that I have taken up residence to the north west. That is our next destination.”

Odahviing turned his gaze to Casil. “Is this where  _ you  _ wish to go,  _ dovahkiin? _ ”

Casil nodded without hesitation. She glanced around, before grabbing a stick. ‘Need to make vampires not suspicious,’ she wrote in large letters in the dirt, letting the dragon read it before she quickly tried to erase the message. 

The red dragon seemed to distaste the idea, but at last he lowered his head again. “Do not think I will wait there for you longer then I have to. I am not your  _ pet, _ ” he growled, aiming his words at Miraak. Casil climbed onto the dragon’s back, frowning. 

Miraak chuckled, following Casil. “If I wished for you to be my servant, you would already have no say in the matter,” he replied smoothly, until Casil elbowed him in the stomach. She gave him a concerned stare, before giving Odahviing a apologetic one.

The dragon spread his wings, carefully picking himself up above the house before circling to head towards the ruins. “[Hi los pruzah ahst unt dremi, Miraak](-) _ , _ ” the dragon grumbled. The man simply smirked in response. 

They arrived at Miraak’s temple near nightfall. Miraak escorted Casil down to his room once more, leaving their ride to take to the sky again to find his evening roost, somewhere  _ away  _ from Miraak’s new home. Casil was sure that Jenassa and Serana would be less than pleased to know that, but she was not worried. They didn’t need to know anyways.

It felt a little strange to Casil to be back there. Miraak lit the candles once they entered his room, removing his mask and gloves once there was sufficient light to illuminate the dark room. Casil shifted the bag on her shoulder, setting it down beside a chair before taking her seat. She waited for Miraak to look at her before raising her hands.

‘So you hate me?’

Miraak paused as he moved to set his mask on a dresser, frowning. He let out a hum, before moving to sit across from her. “Hate you? No, that is not the word I would use to describe my feelings towards you.”

Casil pursed her lips. ‘Then how  _ do  _ you feel about me? You’ve been doing a good job at dancing around it as of late.’

His brow furrowed as he rested his arms on the table. His silent gaze made Casil shift in her seat, before she just sighed.

‘You aren’t going to give me an answer, are you?’ She questioned.

He leaned back in his chair, looking to the wall. She could tell he was carefully considering his words again. Ever since she had confronted him, he had been doing it a lot more. She could not tell if it was to hide weakness, or because he really did not know what to say.

Casil gave him a few more moments to think, before she pushed back the chair and stood up. Miraak glanced to her, arching an eyebrow. With a deep breath, Casil walked over to stand in front of him. ‘Then  _ show  _ me how you feel.’

It was about the dumbest, cheesiest thing she could think of, but it was better than the painful silence she kept getting in reply.

The nord blinked. “ _ Show you?” _

Casil nodded, trying not to just back out from embarrassment. She offered him no further explanation.

Miraak pursed his lips, before he stood as well. He lifted Casil’s chin with his index finger. “Are you  _ sure  _ that is what you want?” he questioned lowly.

Casil felt her heart skip a beat, and her cheeks start to burn red. ‘Since you don’t seem like you want to tell me it,’ she signed, trying to keep her hands steady.

“Are you  _ sure? _ ” he repeated, leaning a bit closer.

Casil could feel that ever more noticeable pull to him as he leaned into her. With a deep breath, Casil nodded her head. She was sure. She was tired of not knowing, and if this any way she’d find out even  _ somewhat  _ of how he  _ actually  _ felt to her, then so be it. ‘No lying, no hiding.’

Miraak gazed down at her, thinking for a few moments before he brought his lips to her’s. His other hand found its way to her lower back, bringing her body flush to his as he kissed her deeply. Casil closed her eyes, bringing her hands up to cup his face. She could feel him tremble slightly, which she found almost curious. After a moment, he scooped her up, carrying her to his bed before he set her down. She expected him to just rip her clothing off as he had in the past, but to her surprise he pulled away. She blinked up at him, resting on his bed as he looked her over. Slowly he leaned forward, resting one hand beside her before bringing his other hand up to trace the tattoo that traversed her face. She felt her breath hitch in surprise at the gentleness of his touch, like a ghost’s as his thumb traced over the marking before he came to hold her face. She stared at him with wide eyes, before he leaned forward to bring her into a gentle kiss. 

This was different. This was not what she expected. His hand traced up to her ear, running his thumb along the top until he reached the tip. Casil shuddered as he gently rubbed the tip of her ear, causing her to lean into him in surprise. Her cheeks flushed bright red, and her heart fluttered. His lips softly trailed down her jawline to her neck, leaving fleeting kisses as he moved. Casil brought her hands up to wrap around him, swallowing hard. He left a long kiss against her throat before moving to gently suck against the side of her neck, finally moving his fingers from her ear to trace lightly down the back of her neck leaving goosebumps in its wake. Her fingers sunk into his robes, closing her eyes again as she soaked in every feeling. His hand slowly pulled at her robe, tugging it down just over her shoulder so he could move his kisses and sucking to her shoulder and crook of her neck. His other hand finally found her side, slowly working on untying her sash. His other hand continued to work down her robe, leaving a light nip at her collarbone that caused Casil’s breathing to sharpen. Her robes slid down her frame, and his worn hands caressed every inch of her now bare skin. 

He was so  _ gentle,  _ it almost frightened Casil. Her breathing slowed as she focused on the sensation of his hands as they wandered her skin. Miraak left long kisses against the dips of her collar bones, against her sternum, at the base of her neck, the underside of her jaw, the base of her ears… It made her tremble. His movements were slow and deliberate, and almost maddening. He removed her top, allowing him access to her breasts. The man pushed her back onto the bed so he could lean over her, moving to take one of her nipples into his mouth. She inhaled sharply, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. A hand traced down her side, feeling ever rib and the dips and curves of her abdomen as the other moved to rub her other nipple. Casil held him tightly, shaking as she felt his tongue dart out to brush against her skin. Her head spun, and slowly she found herself quietly panting under his motions. The bosmer’s fingers rubbed against his scalp, tilting her head back as he pinched, pulled and sucked on her chest. She brought one leg to hitch up around his side, but he carefully pushed it down and gave her nipple a sharp nip. Casil jolted, gasping in surprise. Miraak chuckled, grinning against her chest before he finally pulled her pants down. She shivered, not letting go of his hair and neck as he finally trailed further down. She let herself sit up nervously,  watching him trail his lips over the soft flesh of her stomach to her hips, where his thumbs caressed the dip from her pelvis. 

“Relax,  _ silyoli, _ ” he mumbled against her stomach, pulling her undergarments down as well. She fought the urge to pull him back up, making herself relax back against the bed again so she couldn’t see. Her fingers remained anxiously tangled in his hair, tightening as she felt his lips meet the inside of her thigh. Her legs instinctively tried to close, but he used his hands to keep them apart. His fingers rubbed slowly over her skin, trying to keep her relaxed as he kissed closer to his target. He could hear Casil’s breathing pick up, until at last his lips pressed against her folds. She shuddered hard, clenching her eyes closed in embarrassment. Miraak hummed, causing her to shudder again before his tongue ran the length of her slit. Casil arched, inhaling sharply again. Her heart pounded in her chest, feeling him suck slowly on her clit as a hand moved to rub just inside of her. Her body contorted, fingers digging hard into his scalp as he explored her. Her ragged exhales were as close to a moan as she could manage, but Miraak noted them and continued his ministrations. Her toes curled as his tongue dipped into her core, and she bit her lower lip hard. 

Divines, it did feel good. This was not at all what she had been expecting from him, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt better. His tongue lapped deeper beside his finger, and Casil couldn’t help but finally sit up to try to pull his face closer. She let out a strained groan, panting hard as she shifted her hips up against his face. Miraak smirked, glancing up at his lover. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, but the look of pleasure on her face was absolutely rewarding. She tilted her head back with her lips parted, hooking her legs around him as he tried to coax her closer to her edge. He felt her shake harder, tensing at each movement he made until at last her body gave a violent shudder. She hunched over him with almost a squeak, holding his head tightly against her body as her muscles clenched. He lapped at her juices, hands holding her hips tightly until at last he pulled away. 

Casil dared to open her eyes to look at him, panting. The nord smirked, wiping his face before cupping her’s with one hand. He leaned forward, brushing his lips along her ear. “You taste  _ exquisite,”  _ he whispered with a purr. Casil stiffened, burying her face into his shoulder in embarrassment. 

Miraak chuckled lowly, before pulling away. Slowly, he removed his robes. “[Hi fen mindoraan mindoli ahst hi…](-) _ ” _ he said, unhooking his armor. He set it aside, letting his robe fall to the ground. “[Pah laat gein. Hi fen mindok daar sili ag fah hi, daar zu’u fen dir fah hi…](-) _ ”  _ His voice wavered as he stared at her. He undid his belt and let his pants fall, causing Casil to blush and glance down to the side in her usual embarrassment. He leaned over, making her look at him again. There was something in his gaze Casil had not really seen before, and it made her hold her breath. “ [ _ Hi fen koraav daar zu’u nis lost naan nuz hi. _ _ ” _ ](-)

He pulled away for a moment, bringing his hands to hold her sides. 

“ _ Mul Qah Diiv.” _

The energy rippled off of his form as he pushed her down against the bed, orange-blue scales and markings enveloping him. Casil’s eyes went wide, and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. It was his soul. She could feel his very soul brush against her skin, and the pulling, the strange sensation she had was out of control. He leaned forward, running his lips along her jawline. The energy buzzed against her, sending a sort of shocking sensation through her nerves that she had never felt before to this degree. Like when she absorbed a dragon soul, but in a way that was not familiar. She was almost afraid to touch him, but it felt like her soul would burst if she didn’t. She raised her hands to question why he was doing this, but he grabbed them and pushed them over her head. Fiery yellow-orange eyes gazed down at her, sending a pang of fear and arousal through her. Miraak smirked, showing frighteningly sharp fangs before he leaned over towards her ear.

“ _ Gol Hah Dov.” _

Whatever sharp feeling of absolute fear that immediately seized Casil was quickly soothed by Miraak’s overpowering will. It was like a gentle ease to relax, not to fight it, to accept it, to accept  _ him.  _ She struggled, but she had  _ asked  _ him to show her. Slowly she allowed his will to take over her’s, easing herself into his absolute control. Her body relaxed beneath his, and her breathing steadied as she gazed into his captivating stare.

It was almost too much. The feeling of his soul against her body, his very essence, was almost too much. But it was his will too. It was  _ him.  _ Body, soul, and mind. His lips traced her neck as he gazed over her, body trembling in anticipation. She could feel his  _ desire.  _ He  _ wanted  _ her. He wanted to her to want him, to desire him, to admire him. To gaze upon his form, his power. To feel his very soul, to know  _ him.  _ He released her hands, letting her lay there like malleable clay as he cradled her face in one of his hands. His head came to rest against her’s, lips inches from pressing to her. His touch burned her skin but left no marks, making her soul ache for his’. He had wanted this. He had wanted her. She could feel it as if it were her own emotion. Somewhere, it felt like it was blending with her own sense of being, and it almost made her break.

Without warning, Miraak gripped her hips and shoved into her. She inhaled sharply, arching against him as he filled her. She felt as if everything had gone blank. Her fingers tightly found his back as he pulled her body as close to his as he could, burying his face into her neck. They were so  _ close.  _ Her fingers dug into his skin, wanting to be  _ closer.  _ It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t touch his soul like she wanted. It was overwhelming. His will eased her to relax, and she happily complied. Slowly, his hips thrust against her’s. Casil felt her body shudder with each movement, jerking against him with a sharp inhale each time he penetrated deeper into her. His fingers traced over her skin, feeling her writhe beneath him. 

Casil could hardly comprehend everything that was happening. The power of his will dominating her own, the hum of his soul, the connection of their bodies. She did not want it to end. His teeth bit into her neck hard, grunting deeply at each overly powerful thrust. She knew she was going to bruise badly after this, but she didn’t care. Her legs wrapped around his hips, wanting nothing more than for him to fully fill her.  _ He  _ wanted nothing more then to fully fill her. 

He wanted her to be his. His, forever. Only his. She felt the suffocating desire to simply  _ be  _ beside each other, to be connected like this, to be  _ one.  _

The bed creaked loudly as he braced her against the furs, letting go of her neck every few thrusts to let out a loud, primal moan. Casil stared at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, feeling as if she would absolutely lose her mind to this.

He did not want to lose her.  _ Stay, stay, stay. Don’t run away again. Stay. Stay with me. Stay. _

He rolled his face against her neck, closing his eyes tightly as he dug his nails into the furs. Casil let out a muffled whimper of pleasure, weakly trying to thrust her hips back.

He wanted forgiveness. He wanted her not to hate him. He wanted her to understand his own confusion, his own confliction. He was sorry. He was lost. He was scared. He wanted her to understand. He wanted her to stay despite it all.

He gripped her with a groan and flipped her onto her belly, biting into her shoulder again as he held her hips in his hands. Casil arched into him firmly, gripping the furs this time herself. Her lips mouthed his name over and over at each thrust, wishing she could let the word spill from her mouth.

He needed her. His soul  _ ached  _ for her. She could feel it, deafening and suffocating. Her own soul clawed to reach his, and so badly did she want to give it up to him. 

Miraak’s moans picked up into almost growls, loudly resonating off of the walls. He was sure that anyone else in the temple could hear them, but he did not care. He was claiming Casil as rightfully his, and they should all know it. He could feel Casil tighten around him, but he willed himself to keep going. She writhed, and he reveled in it as he pounded her through her orgasm.

He was so sorry. He was so afraid. He did not know how to tell her. He could not bring himself to tell her. Pride, fear. The possibility of losing her, the possibility of being hurt.

The sound of skin slapping skin resonated in the room with Miraak’s groans and snarls. His fingers dug into her hips, her stomach, her chest, her arms, her sides. He left crescent shaped marks, deep bruises, bloody bites wherever his lips and hands crossed. Casil allowed it, and she did not care if that was her will or his. In the moment, they were indistinguishable. Everything had blurred into one, almost one. She did not want to lose it. Everything felt as though it was meant to be.

And he wanted to love her. Her love for him was precious. Dear, so dear. Frightening, but powerful. Something he had not truly had before. Something he desired only from her now. The draw, the unstoppable, strange, uncertain draw between them choked him as much as it choked her. He would kill, he would die, to keep it. Things he could not speak. Things he could only show.

Casil managed to turn in his arms, fighting his will and his extraordinarily strong body just so she could bite him back, claw him back, embrace him tightly. She mouthed his name against his neck, and it made him shudder so pleasantly against her. He felt her body stiffening again.

The first and the last dragonborn. Drawn together across millennia, bound and fated to face each other. Bound and fated to be beside one another. He made her understand the power, his power, the dragon’s power. The power they would have together. The peace they would have together, amidst the battle for dominance that still fought on between them. He had one final pulling desire.

Be mine, Casil. Forever. Until the end of time. 

The first and the last, the dawn and the dusk. 

He wanted nothing more than for her to be his mate.

Casil dug her nails into his back hard enough to draw blood as she came again, closing her eyes tightly as she clung to him. Miraak hissed, drawing her body to his as he fully hilted into her. She felt warmth spread inside of her as Miraak gave a few more violent thrusts before he stilled, holding her down against his hips as he emptied himself inside of her. His breathing came out in hard, ragged pants against her shoulder, a few drops of her blood and saliva dropping onto her skin. She felt whole in that moment. Slowly his Dragon Aspect faded, and is will retreated from her. He collapsed onto the bed, trying to fall to the side so as not to smother his lover. Casil shuddered weakly, exhausted and overstimulated. The man shakily scooped her up, dragging her to lie under the pelts with him after finally pulling out of her. He held her tightly to his chest, nuzzling into her bleeding neck. Casil’s fingers ran through his hair, tiredly closing her eyes as everything slowly came back down. She brought a hand to rest against his chest, and he moved a hand to hold it tightly.

“ _ Dii silyol....”  _ he whispered against her neck, kissing the wounds he had left on her. 

Casil felt herself slipping into sleep with a content smile on her face, cuddled up against the larger body of her love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hi los pruzah ahst unt dremi, Miraak** -You are good at trying my patience, Miraak.
> 
>  **Hi fen mindoraan mindoli ahst hi…** \- You will understand my thoughts towards you...
> 
>  **Pah laat gein. Hi fen mindok daar sili ag fah hi, daar zu’u fen dir fah hi…** \- Every last one. You will know that my soul burns for you, that I will die for you.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Hi fen koraav daar zu’u nis lost naan nuz hi.** -You will see that I cannot have anyone but you


	64. LXIV. Weight of Living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not actually dead I swear - But a big final scientific paper can and will kill your desire to creative write. I'm sorry if things jump around a bit as I try to get back into the swing of things and my previous train of thought!

Casil awoke feeling like she’d just come out of a long, arduous fight. Her muscles felt stiff, and numerous places on her body sent pain when she shifted, namely her neck and her hips. The woman let out a soft sigh, shifting as the world slowly spun back into place. 

Miraak was still asleep when she finally opened her eyes. Light filtered in through the window, notifying Casil that it was somewhere around midmorning. Faintly she could hear the cultists elsewhere in the ruin going about their daily business, but beyond that things were quiet. The old nord still had his broad arms wrapped around Casil, holding her close to his chest as he dozed. He was comfortably warm, and Casil snuggled into him and the pelts. She let her eyes focus on his face, taking in the details as she woke up.

His features told her how little nords had changed over the past few millennia. Were it not for a handful of other things, she imagined he’d fit in just fine look wise in the modern era. His face had very strong features, and a very angled jaw that Casil found quite handsome. His nose had a few uneven bumps where the cartilage had healed after being broken several times, one of which had been her fault. There were dark rings under his eyes that she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him not have, and it made her wonder how well he actually slept. Dark rings and wrinkles. His face showed signs of stress and aging, and Casil wasn’t quite sure if he was as old as she guessed or simply very stressed. Either could frankly be true, and she doubted that he had aged a day in Apocrypha. Time had hardly felt like it passed for her while she had been in there. His hair at this point was almost half black and half grey, which was made all the more apparent in sunlight. Cut short and thoroughly peppered, which made him just look that much more  _ tired  _ to Casil. Her eyes fell on the scar that ran the length of the right side of his face, starting from his brow and ending at the edge of his lips. It was jagged, and branched into two separate scars under his eye. A smaller scar cut across the inner corner of the same eye, and a handful of other small scars traversed his lips on the same side. 

Casil hesitantly reached up and gently traced her fingers down the scar. Miraak shifted under her touch, softly exhaling before turning his head so he could press his lips to the inside of her wrist. Casil smiled softly, holding his face in her hand until his eyes opened. For the first time, the dark void of his eyes did not bother or scare her. He reached a hand up to hold her’s to his face, letting out a soft hum as he scanned her features. 

“ _ Pruzah vu, silyoli,”  _ he mumbled against her hand, sighing deeply. Casil leaned forward, wincing in slight pain before she place a soft kiss on his lips. He held it, pulling her closer for a moment before he let go.

Casil snuggled up against him, enjoying the proximity to the other dragonborn. His fingers brushed through her hair, nuzzling her cheek softly before he rolled onto his back with a lazy stretch. Casil shifted so she could rest her head on his chest, letting her hand rest beside it. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, tilting his head to see her. Casil nodded, idly pulling at one of the many hairs on his chest. Miraak swatted her hand with a snort, before pecking her forehead. 

‘Sore,’ she finally signed, nuzzling back into his neck. His fingers lifted to brush against one of the many nasty bites on her neck, making her cringe. 

“We will have to get these healed up then. I… apologize… for being so… rough.”

She shook her head, wincing. ‘I asked you to. And… I wouldn’t have wanted it differently.’

His fingers hummed with magic, and she felt the pain fade as he healed the bites along her neck. “Then you won’t pester me anymore about what I think about you?”

Casil snorted, rolling her eyes at him. She shook her head though. ‘You told me a lot. Thank you.’

He gave a soft exhale, nodding. His fingers tightened against her side. “I… was afraid you might… leave,” he mumbled quietly.

Casil reached up to rest her hand on his face again, gazing at him softly. ‘Only if you kept up your lies and being cranky,’ she signed, giving him a peevish grin.

He grunted, digging his fingers into the bruises on her side so she’d drop the smirk. She wiggled back, trying to sit up before he pulled her back against his chest. He rolled onto the side, snuggling against her with a slow inhale. “A bit longer,  _ dii silyol...  _ “ he breathed, closing his eyes. 

Casil obliged, relaxing in his arms. She felt the gentle pull of his soul, which seemed much more noticeable than it had been even the day prior. Her fingers intertwined with his, feeling calm and relaxed. She finally understood what it was that he felt, and it brought her a certain sense of relief finally knowing. Even if he was going to still skirt around it verbally. The way he held her and kissed her confirmed for her that what he felt was true, even if he didn’t want to talk about it. He was afraid to, and unsure. She could respect that, even if it frustrated her. 

“[Suvulaani, kuni, pah daar zu’u koraav fod vu alok. Zu’u mindol daar zu’u aal saan hi fod zu’u fun hi vahzen…](-) _ ”  _ He sighed softly. “ [ _ Nuz het hi los mulhaan, ko haalvuti. Zu’u lost mey mindol hi lost nikriin daar hi aal faas zu’u _ ](-) _[.](-)” _

Casil pouted at him. ‘It’s unfair when you talk like that. I can’t understand it all.”

He hummed, leaving a kiss at the tip of her ear. “Yes, I need to teach you it.” At last, Miraak pulled away and sat up, surveying the scrapes Casil had left on his chest.

Casil sat up as well, wincing much more. She was still covered with deep purple bruises from his fingertips, and her body ached something fierce. Miraak moved past her to get out of the bed, stretching before walking into the neighboring room. She heard the sound of water, and the crackle of fire. At least he had a place to bathe inside. The last thing she needed too was for Odahviing to comment on her smell again.

It was strange to feel him walk away. There was a noticeable absence when he was not near her, like a piece of her soul was somewhere else. She lingered in bed for a few more minutes, surveying the bruising on her skin. That would certainly have to go, especially where it couldn’t be covered by clothing. She didn’t need people asking about it.

Finally Casil pushed herself out of the bed, steadying herself against it before she stood. Stiffly, she made her way into the next room, using the wall to keep herself from stumbling over.

_ How embarrassing.  _

A decently large metal tub sat in the center of the room, flanked by a shelf of various oils and soaps. She was half tempted to roll her eyes at the assortment, but Miraak glanced up to her from testing the water on one side of the tub. He raised a brow at Casil, and she waved a hand in dismissal.

‘How long do you plan on us being here?’ Casil signed as Miraak turned the water off.

He gave a shrug. “A day, at least. Besides, I didn’t think you would want to head back out today anyways,” he replied simply, resting his palms on the edge of the tub as he watched the other dragonborn. “Now, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come over?”

Casil furrowed her brow. ‘I figured you’d set this up for yourself.’

“I did,” Miraak replied, giving her a coy smile, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t  _ join  _ me.”

Casil rolled her eyes. ‘I didn’t expect you to be so  _ kind  _ all of the sudden.’

Miraak grunted, pushing himself away from the edge of the tub. “I’m not as  _ disgusting  _ as you are,” he said, walking over to scoop the bosmer up. 

Casil managed a smile, swatting him lightly on the chest. Carefully, he got into the tub and placed Casil between his legs. She leaned back against him as the two settled into the warm water. Whatever emptiness seemed to pop up in her chest when he left disappeared again, easing her.

‘So much for saying that you wouldn’t ever love me,’ she signed, tilting her head back to look up at him.

He grunted, tilting his chin up and away pridefully as he averted his gaze. “Hush.”

Casil stretched, before turning to kiss the underside of his jaw. It was… a relief, to say the least. To her, anyways. Miraak still seemed to be very much in some sort of denial, but at this stage she couldn’t complain. He did care, he did want her around. No matter what Jenassa or Serana said, that made her content. Whatever the connection was between them, it was… different, than what she had ever felt with anyone else. She wasn’t sure if it was normal; Casil hadn’t exactly ever  had many feelings for anyone else in the first place. Maybe it was because they were both dragonborn, and if that was the case she would not be surprise. Regardless, it was stronger than anything she’d ever felt, and knowing that Miraak reciprocated the feelings felt like a weight off of her shoulders.

The older dragonborn rested his head on top of her’s with a hum of thought, wrapping his arms around her waist as the two enjoyed the water. It felt wonderful on her sore body, that was for sure. There were still questions plaguing Casil’s mind, but she felt like she’d be pushing her luck if she asked. Miraak seemed to be in a good mood, and she had a feeling that her pestering would sour it. 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

His question shook her out of her thoughts. She turned her head to look at him, blinking. She nodded in response, before tilting her head in questioning. His fingers brushed across a scabbed-over, deeply bruised bite mark on her neck that caused her to flinch.

“That’s why.”

Casil snorted, reaching up to heal it with her magic. ‘I’m fine,’ she signed when she was done, trying to carefully see where the other worst wounds were.

His lips met the back of her neck gently, sending shivers up her spine before he pulled away. “If you insist,” he replied, leaning back in the tub again. He helped her mend some of her injuries, careful not to bump into the worst of the bites, scratches, or bruises as he did so. 

The gentleness again was unfamiliar to Casil. Part of her violently wanted to question the sincerity of it, and if it hadn’t been for… whatever she could call last night, she probably would have. But what she had  _ felt  _ was hard for her to deny. 

If it all had just been a trick by Miraak to get her to stop bothering him and to stop questioning him, Casil would have happily played along anyways. If he was simply tricking her, she would have no way to tell. The events that had transpired the night before had been too vivid, too close to her heart, too incredible, for her to care.

Miraak leaned over to grab soap and a washcloth, scooting Casil forward so he could clean himself off before he scrubbed her down. 

Did things normally move this fast, move this erratically? The two of them bounced back and forth between being at each other’s throats and being sweet loves so frequently that it was hard for even Casil to follow. Only a few days prior Casil had been hiding from him in hopes of never seeing him again, and now he was washing her hair like nothing had happened. 

No wonder Jenassa and Serana were getting tired of it. It was hard to keep up with. At any given moment, the two of them might want each other dead. Maybe over the next few days the two of them could work it out before they got back to the others.

 

Once the two of them had cleaned up, dried off and changed into clean clothing, Miraak lead Casil out of his room to what Casil assumed to be a sort of main hall to the ruins. The old structure had been only partially reclaimed by Miraak and his followers, but a majority of it remained as ruined and downtrodden as it must have been when they found it. Some banners hung in the hallways, and various heaps of decaying wood or broken furniture had been piled in corners out of the way of daily life, but most of it was sparse and empty. 

Some of the cult members eyed Casil as she passed, but otherwise paid her no mind. She’d hung around most of them long enough now for them to not be worried, it seemed. If Miraak allowed her to be around, then they should have no quarrel with her.

Miraak left her in the main hall to attend some of his own business with some of the cult members, allowing the bosmer to wander the halls as she pleased. The cultists were informed that she was a welcome guest and not to heckle her, though it seemed Miraak did not let her have  _ full  _ reign of the place. She wasn’t particularly surprised.

The main hall was probably the best decorated from what she’d seen. No debris could be seen in any of the corners, and decent furniture and flourishes had been brought in to give the open hall some life. A large fire pit sat at the center, surrounded on two sides by long tables and the other two by various chairs and one or two larger cushioned chairs. Banners hung in the halls bearing old colors that were not familiar to Casil, and several shelves lined the walls that were decorated with ancient artifacts and books. Some she recognized from Miraak’s temple on Solstheim, but many she assumed were found in the current ruins when they arrived.

Casil had not heard about this ruin before Miraak. It wasn’t on her map, and she hadn’t seen it while browsing for locations of lesser known Nordic ruins to loot. It was well hidden in the mountains, and from what Casil could see reaching it on foot was not easy. Both times she’d visited she’d arrived on the back of a dragon, but she doubted it was the only way up. Miraak may have great power over dragons, but she was skeptical that the dragons had been willing to haul all of his followers and whatever items he wanted up and down the mountain as he pleased. The lack of furniture was understandable if that was the case; the pathway up to the ruin through the mountain probably wasn’t easy.

Casil sat down in one of the plush chairs, letting out a soft sigh as she surveyed the room. A large dragon skull had been mounted at the far side of the room, a testament to things passed. Miraak seemed to still be holding onto his past tightly, and Casil wasn’t sure if that was the best for him. She knew she was exceptionally flaky about her own past, but the way Miraak continued to grapple with his didn’t seem to be in his best interest. 

From what little she knew about it. She’d complain at how little she knew about his past, if he couldn’t just turn around and do the same. Sterlas hadn’t even known much about her past, despite the decent chunk of time the two had spent together. Curiosity was getting the better of her though. Miraak’s past was so deep and convoluted that it was hard for her not to want to know. How could she pretend she was uninterested in the history of the first dragonborn, her predecessor? Of a man that must have been so incredibly powerful, who lived during the era where dragons still ruled? Someone who could have put an end to  their menace but somehow got tangled up in Hermaeus Mora’s tentacles instead? There was no way for her to be disinterested in that. But she had no idea how to ask him about it. She doubted he’d be willing to simply tell her, because he seemed uninterested in disclosing a lot of things that were personal.

She watched a cultist sweep some of the uncarpeted floor, drumming her fingers on the chair’s arm in thought. That being said, one of the cultists might know. If nothing else, they might have a better idea than her… even if it was over-glorified version of what really happened. She doubted people who devotedly followed him would be oblivious to his history. It was a matter of picking out a cultist, and finding the right time to ask them. 

Miraak passed through the far end of the room, discussing something with one of the higher-up cultists. His mask had been donned again, and it brought a frown to Casil’s face. Of all the remnants of his past, that was the one Casil thought was the most unhealthy for him. His alliance with Hermaeus Mora seemed to be his greatest regret and mistake from what she understood, and it was obvious that his mask had either been made, or twisted by the Daedric Prince. For all that the monster had done to him, she wondered why he still wore it. 

Casil’s gaze fell on a cultists approaching her. They gave her a curt bow, stopping a little more than an arm’s length away from the dragonborn.

“Lord Miraak informed us that you would be staying here for a day or two,” they noted, mask staring at them emotionlessly. “So I was wondering if I could get you anything, miss.”

Casil recognized the voice, but it took her a moment to recall where she’d heard it before. ‘You brought me a the letter a couple of weeks back, didn’t you?’ She signed absent-mindedly.

The cultists shifted uncomfortably. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your hand motions like my Lord does, but,” he produced a piece of paper and a wrapped up piece of charcoal, “I brought some paper in case you didn’t.”

Casil grabbed the paper and charcoal in embarrassment, repeating her question in written words before flashing the sheet to the cultist.

They nodded simply. “Yes, I was. You may call me Girris.”

Girris. Casil nodded in return. ‘Pleasure to meet you then. I’m fine for now though, thank you for asking,’ she wrote, eyeing the masked cultist.

Girris shifted. “If you insist. If you are in need of anything, simply ask,” he said, turning away.

Casil folded the paper up and set it on the ground beside her, watching Girris leave. Well, there might be someone worth asking. She’d at least  _ talked  _ to them before, even if it was only briefly. That was better than most of the cultists…. That being said, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to pick him out from the crowd of other cultists. They all wore the same regalia, and none of them really had many personal additions to it. 

She shrugged it off for the time being, watching the fire flicker in the pit. For now, she’d look around and stay out of trouble. 

 

Miraak rejoined her several hours later, catching her sitting outside at the entry of the ruins. The snow outside had let up, giving Casil a chance to survey their surroundings. The bosmer leaned against a crumbling stone railing, trying to pick out where they were exactly.

Miraak rested his arms on the stone next to her, scanning the sky. “Is it what you expected?”

Casil glanced to him, waiting for his mask to face her before replying. ‘More or less. Just, a lot further away then I thought when we arrived in Skyrim,’ she replied.

“Would you expect for me to be somewhere easy to reach?”

‘Considering your temple in Solstheim, yes.’

Miraak chuckled. “No… that was different,” he looked back to the stretch of mountains before them. “That was built for me when I was in power. That was different, a different time.”

Casil frowned. ‘So now you’ve taken up to hiding?’

Miraak stiffened slightly. “Do you not remember what happened when we brought that vampire back to her home?”

‘You chose to hide up here  _ before  _ that.’

“It doesn’t change what I said,” he said simply. “I do not need to be a easy target for my enemies, or future ones.”

‘You plan on picking up more?’ Casil signed, pursing her lips.

Miraak shrugged. “I don’t plan on it, no, but it is always a possibility when you have  _ power. _ ”

Casil sighed, a cloud of hot air rolling out of her nostrils. She knitted her hands together, resting them against the cold stone as she scanned the snowy landscape.

“It is safer here, for the time being. There is much I still need to understand, and many people I still need to speak with. Should something go wrong, I would rather have somewhere like this to call my fortress,” he continued. “In the same way that vampire hunter has done with his fort. Surely you can understand that?”

Casil’s lips pursed tighter. ‘I worry what that means, Miraak. What you’re up to.’

“I thought that was obvious,” he replied simply, turning his mask to idly brush some snow off of the railing. “I plan on resuming my place in a seat of power. Skyrim is in turmoil, and I have made my presence known to the powers of your various factions that war with each other. I plan on stopping that, and put Skyrim in my control.”

Casil frowned, running her tongue along her teeth in thought. ‘Do you really think that will work? That people will trust you?’

“Why wouldn’t they?” Miraak asked simply. “I have slain Alduin, and few know of my history, including  _ yourself.” _

Casil stiffened. ‘Because you won’t tell me.’

“And neither will you,” he replied simply with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter. People will be willing to serve a power that can put an end to this civil war. I will strengthen Skyrim again, and I doubt few can argue with that. And if they do, they will meet their punishment.”

Casil glanced at the ground. ‘So you’re going to be a tyrant?’

Miraak pushed himself from the wall, turning to face Casil. “We are  _ dragonborn,  _ Casil. It is in our blood to dominate. I thought you were aware of that.”

Back to this again. ‘Doesn’t mean I want to.’

Miraak snorted. “You’d be lying then. Perhaps you do not go about it as I do, but you are no different.” The irritation in his voice was obvious, and Casil grimaced as he turned to walk away.

She turned and grabbed the back of his robe, stopping him. The man turned to face her, and his movement suggested frustration to her. ‘I’m just. Worried. Okay?’

That seemed to catch him off guard. He hesitated on a response. 

‘I know I don’t know much about your past, or what you would really do if you got to power, but I’m worried. I know you’re so much more experienced then I am but I don’t… I don’t want to lose you, Miraak. Not after we’ve been through all of this.’

Miraak managed to chuckle. “Worried about me?” He reached out, tilting Casil’s chin up to look at him. “Your worry is misplaced. Do you really think I should be worried? I have dragons at my command and millennia of knowledge that others could only dream of.”

‘And you have the one who gave that power and knowledge to you trying to kill you, and me,’ Casil signed.

Miraak shifted, before letting go of her chin. “I will always be weary of him, yes. But I do not wish to hide my  _ entire  _ life in fear of him. I took back control of my own fate, and I will not let him always control it through fear.”

Casil slowly exhaled, before nodding. She folded her arms across her chest, unsure if she could keep herself from feeling uneasy about his plan.

Miraak pulled her arms away from her sides, pulling them to her chest. “Besides,” he spoke softly, reaching up to tilt his mask up. “I have  _ you. _ ”

Even if his statement set of warning flags in her head, it made her blush. He tilted her chin up again so he could peck her on the lips with a grin, before letting go and pulling his mask back down. 

“There is no army, or monster, or power that can contend with  _ us,  _ Casil. The First and the Last dragonborn, together. An unstoppable power. Not even Mora will be able to defeat us,” he said, turning to head back inside.

Casil let him leave, frowning again as he disappeared back into the ruins.

She wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t sure if she could.

 

Casil retreated back to Miraak’s room after supper. The older dragonborn continued his work around the ruins, leaving Casil to her own devices once more.

Casil had not been in the room for long when she heard the familiar flap of wings, before the shudder of stone and snow beneath the giant body of a dragon. Odahviing’s face craned down to peer in one of the windows, sniffing the air.

“Dovahkiin, you are still alive.  _ Pruzah, _ ” he rumbled, shifting his position above the room so he could look in the windows with better ease. 

The woman walked over to the door, opening it up so she could see the dragon. 

“I hope things have been well?” He questioned, grey eyes peering at her from down his snout.

Casil nodded, looking around the room for paper. The wind from the door sent papers scattering and snow into the room, but she dismissed it. She found herself a long strip of parchment and a piece of charcoal, before writing out a response.

‘Yes. We plan on leaving tomorrow afternoon I believe.’

Odavhiing grunted. “If that is as late as you must leave.”

‘Not a fan of here?’

The red dragon chuckled, shifting to use his wings to block the wind from billowing into the small room. “No. I have no desire in spending more time then I need to around that  _ tahrodiss sonaak, _ ” he growled. “Nor do I desire to have to be near his  _ zaam.  _ I await the day when he tries to make my will his own.”

Casil frowned. ‘You know I won’t let him.’

Odahviing snorted, sending more snow blowing into the room. “I trust your power, dovahkiin, but I have my doubts that you could stop him if he chose to… no matter how close you may be to him.”

Casil swallowed hard, before shaking her head. ‘I know, but I’ll try.’

The dragon hummed, shifting on his perch. “You give him too much hope, dovahkiin. He will do what he needs to get what he wants. You would be wise to remember that.”

‘You don’t believe that he has a good side to him?’

The laughter that Odahviing admitted was deafening. Casil brought her hands up to cover her ears, wincing at the loud noise. “Dovahkiin, you are a  _ fool  _ if you believe he does,” Odahviing hissed. “The Skaal do not remember him as the Traitor for no reason. He will do what must be done to further his power, and he does not care for anything else. I doubt you are any different to him. Another piece in his game, dovahkiin.”

‘That isn’t true,’ Casil wrote, giving the dragon a hard look.

Odahviing’s scales rattled. “And why do you believe that? Because he wishes for you to believe that he cares for you? That he, what do you humans call it…  _ loves  _ you?”

Casil took a deep breath, giving the dragon a firm look. ‘I’ve talked to him. I’ve been with him. He’s shown me things you couldn’t imagine.’

Odahviing rumbled. “And i’ve seen him do things that you doubtedly could either, dovhakiin. I watched the man grow from a naive child into a power-hungry monster. I watched him hone his power to destroy my kin. I watched him fell dozens of my brethren who he once served. You would be a fool to believe that monster would treat you any different. He cares not for man, nor dragon.”

Casil bit her lip. ‘You don’t understand. I feel this…  _ pull  _ to him. I know he doesn’t show it, but he’s always jumping in to protect me. The longer i’m around him, the stranger it feels to be  _ away  _ from him.’

Odahviing did not jump on a angry response right away. Instead, the dragon seemed to be considering the words written on the page with more weight. “A pull…? Explain.”

Casil shook her head. ‘I’m not sure how to describe it. It’s like when I absorb a dragon’s soul, sort of.’

He grunted, swishing his tail. The dragon shifted, knocking more snow off the top of the ruins. “Unusual,” he mumbled, shoving his face into the doorframe as he eyed Casil. She stepped back, looking the beast’s scaly face over in alarm. “Be weary, dovahkiin. Perhaps your souls simply wish to devour each other.” Odahviing pulled away, spreading his wings before taking to the sky. Casil brought her arms up to cover her face as more snow and debris was kicked into the room, before the dragon disappeared into the low clouds.

Sighing, Casil closed the door and looked around the room. A few drifts of snow had built up against some of the furniture, and the papers had been scattered to the ground as well. Casil set the parchment aside and set out to pick up what she had scattered, shaking her head to herself. She wasn’t sure what else she expected from Odahviing on that front, but she didn’t want to let it worry her again. Of course Odahviing wouldn’t understand. Miraak had turned on the dragons, and they all resented him for it. But that was thousands of years ago. Despite how arrogant and manipulative Miraak still was, Casil tried not to feel like he would still make that kind of move. If he wanted to betray her or something, he could have done so a long time ago.

She carefully shifted the papers to line up again, peering at what was written on them as she did so. Most were written in dovahzul, leaving her in the dark on what was contained within them. Smart, if Miraak was paranoid about people finding out what he was doing. She could make out a few of the words, but none gave her any sort of idea as to what was written. A handful of others were written in nordic, mostly detailing commands and plans to the cultists. Nothing particularly interesting at the end of the day. Some had cultists investigating other ruins, others detailed purchases or letters that needed to be delivered. She noted a few important names, including General Tullius’s on a list of recipients to various notes.

He really was interested in finding a seat of power. Casil put the papers back on Miraak’s desk, turning to find a broom to sweep the snow into the bathroom or something for it to melt and not soak any of the furs or rugs on the ground. No, he was still power hungry. He very well could betray her, but she wasn’t sure why. She would not compete with him for power. Dragonborn or not, being some high-up member of society in the spotlight was not her idea of power, or what she wanted from power. She would not stop him either if he wanted to climb the ladders, so as long as it did not put her in danger. She would prefer he didn’t just bend the wills of everyone either, but she wasn’t sure how much of that she could control. She would have her power from the background, or the shadows. From his shadow, preferably. Where she could do what she wanted and wasn’t the one everyone went to for answers, but she still might be able to get in her opinions to Miraak. She couldn’t imagine he’d complain. He seemed to enjoy the spotlight anyways.

Casil threw herself onto the bed once the snow had been swept up. The bosmer buried her face into one of the pillows, letting out a long exhale. She wasn’t going to bother stopping him. She was worried about Hermaeus Mora, that was for certain, but he was right in not wanting to just spend his life cowering from it. Besides, if Mora could catch them doing something in the middle of nowhere, she doubted it would matter if he was in the heart of everything. For all she knew, maybe Miraak would be safer surrounded by guards and other people at most times then he would alone. 

The young dragonborn heard the doorknob turn, followed by Miraak’s boots. He unhinged his armor and removed it, setting it on one of the drawers before his robe followed as well. Casil glanced up to him as he laid down next to her, pulling her up to his chest. “You made a mess of the room,” he muttered, adjusting himself so he could be more comfortable against her.

‘Odahviing visited,’ Casil signed, turning in his arms. 

The man frowned, dark eyes scanning her face. “And what did he have to say?”

Casil frowned back. ‘Nothing good about you. He still doesn’t trust you.’

Miraak chuckled. “With good reason.”

Casil shifted, glancing at his chest. ‘Will you betray me?’

Miraak paused, before cupping her face in one of his large hands. He stared at her hard, brow furrowed. “Do you think I will?”

She held her breath, bringing one hand up to hold his. ‘I’m afraid you will.’

“So you think I will betray you?”

Casil couldn’t hold his gaze, and she looked away again. Miraak sighed, pulling her close into a tight hug. 

“What you felt last night, what I showed you… was not a lie, Casil,” he murmured against her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. Casil closed her eyes tightly. “To betray you would hurt me more than I could imagine. No, I will not betray you. For all of the fighting we do, I will not betray you.”

Casil nodded, exhaling slowly. She wrapped her arms around his broad torso, trying to get the paranoia out of her mind.

“Odahviing only wants you to distrust me. He will do whatever it takes to pit you against me. I doubt he’s keen on seeing me replace his former master,” Miraak mused. Casil’s fingertips pressed against his sides, and he shifted. “You have nothing to worry about. I would not have gone through all of this to simply dispose of you,  _ silyoli.”  _ He left a kiss against her temple, before pulling the furs over them.

‘Promise?’

He paused, tilting his head. “Promise?”

Casil looked up at him with worry, nodding. ‘Promise you won’t betray me.’

The man hummed. “I never planned to,” he said softly, running his thumb over her cheek. “Now get to sleep, instead of worrying about this nonsense. We need to retrieve the Scroll tomorrow.” 

Casil let a sigh escape her lips. There was no use worrying. If he was planning on stabbing her in the back, it was doubtful that he would tell her anyways. She wasn’t sure on where she expected to get by asking, but he seemed genuine when he said he wasn’t planning to.

She snuggled against his chest, trying to get the worry and doubt out of her mind. Instead, she focused on the soft hum and pull of their contact, before she drifted into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Suvulaani, kuni, pah daar zu’u koraav fod vu alok. Zu’u mindol daar zu’u aal saan hi fod zu’u fun hi vahzen…” - My dusk, my light, all that I see when the dawn rises. I thought that I may lose you if I told you the truth.
> 
> “Nuz het hi los mulhaan, ko haalvuti. Zu’u lost mey mindol hi lost nikriin daar hi aal faas zu’u.” - But here you are still, in my grasp. I was a fool to think you were a coward and that you may fear me.


	65. LXV. The Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got stuck on that part of the story you're not interested in writing that's between stuff you wanna write. I'm alive I swear! Thank you for all the comments btw! I'll answer them here at some point; I read them, i'm just a chicken to answer. I really appreciate them though ;A; They brighten up my day every time I see them.

“You can’t call it  _ hiding  _ if you simply  _ lost  _ it.”

The wind howled over the peak of the Throat of the World as Odahviing landed, allowing the two dragonborn to slide off his back. The red dragon wearily eyed the other dragons who were gathered around Paarthurnax, who all had their attention on the new arrivals. 

Casil looked the dragons over as well,  before glancing to Miraak. ‘I know where it is, and it may as well be hidden.’

Miraak grunted, folding his arms as he eyed Paarthurnax wearily. The old white dragon adjusted where he sat on the word wall, swishing his tail.

“Dovahkiin. What brings you now to my  _ strunmah _ …?” He asked in a deep rumble. The other dragons shifted below him, one or two of them bearing their fangs at Miraak and Casil.

“We need the Elder Scroll,” Miraak answered, narrowing his eyes at Paarthurnax. 

The white dragon hummed. “ _ Geh _ , that is right… you left it when you  _ bovul,  _ fled, after opening the Time Wound, did you not…?” 

Casil nodded, walking to where she last remembered seeing it. Fire shimmered around her hands as she worked on trying to melt some of the snow, searching for the gold case. 

“I fear what use you may have for it now,” Paarthurnax growled, digging his nails into the wall. His pale eyes locked on Miraak. “Especially if you choose to still linger with this…  _ traitor… _ ” He raised his head to look at Odahviing. “[Zu’u drey ni prodah hi wah aam daar thur, Odahviing](-) _. _ _ ” _

Odahviing grunted, baring his teeth. [“](-) [ _ Zu’u aam fin laat dovahkiin, ahrk fin laat dovahkiin nunon. _ _ ” _ ](-)

Miraak chuckled, giving Paarthurnax a stiff grin. [“](-) [ _ Ni ov zu’u nu? _ _ ” _ ](-)

The dragon let out a deep growl. [“](-) [ _ Tiid hi wahl dreh wah dov, mu fen krii hi. Ni los nunon fah hi aak laat dovahkiin kriin un laat jun daarhi lahney. Mu mindok pogaan dovah qiilaan wah hin rel. Mindok ni pah do mu fen.” _ ](-)

Paarthurnax’s tone made Casil uneasy, even if she didn’t understand all of his words. She tried to pick up her pace, melting the snow away as she searched. The tension was thick.

[“ _Zu’u prodah hi wah. Nuz Zu’u los ni faas hi, uv daar wo aam hi. Hi los wuth ahrk nis koraav vahzah suleyk, Paarthurnax._ ](-) The feeling is mutual,” Miraak replied cooly. 

[ “ _ Mu fen ag hi golt! _ _ ”  _ ](-) A dragon snarled at Miraak, scales bristling. Paarthurnax whipped around and growled.

[ “ _ Nid,”  _ ](-) Paarthurnax turned his gaze back to Miraak. [“](-) [ _ Rok fen koraav ok folaas fod rok dein nau ok miiraad _ _.” _ ](-)

Casil pushed herself to her feet, turning to face Paarthurnax. ‘We need the scroll for a prophecy involving vampires and the sun. I don’t know what is in it that we still need, but…’

Miraak glanced to Casil, before repeating what she said to Paarthurnax.

The dragon shifted on his wall. “I will be watching you,  _ goraan dovahkiin. Krosis,  _ I do not trust what Miraak may want with it.”

Miraak’s grin widened slightly. “Nothing interesting, i’m afraid. I assure you,” he purred. “Though I doubt that will change your…  _ sentiments. _ ”

Casil threw the man a look. Paarthurnax already sounded unhappy, and Miraak didn’t need to push it. ‘Don’t Miraak. We may need his help later.’

Miraak glanced to her with a brow raised. ‘Don’t expect me to accept it if we do,’ he signed back. 

Casil exhaled sharply, before returning to searching in the snow.

The dragons wearily watched Miraak, shifting near the word wall. A few seemed to murmur something to Paarthurnax, and Miraak seemed amused by whatever it was.

Casil shook her head, melting away more of the snow with a stream of fire. Paarthurnax still didn’t trust Miraak, which was fair. But she didn’t know what that might mean for the future. She wasn’t fully sure of what was being said, but the gist told her that Miraak’s plans might put him in danger from the dragon and his followers. Understandably, they weren’t fond of the dragonborn or what he might have for the future. At last, the glint of gold from the Scroll’s case caught her eye. She carefully dug it out, before at last the freezing case was pulled from the snow. Miraak glanced to her, shifting his weight. 

“Is that all we need up here?” He asked, returning his gaze to his enemies. 

Casil nodded, brushing the snow off of the Scroll before she pulled some straps out to tie it to her back. She covered it with a black cloth, hoping it’d be less obvious to anyone who might see them.

“ _ Pruzah.  _ Then leave,” Paarthurnax rumbled. “If you wish to return here again,  _ dovahkiin,”  _ the dragon craned his neck towards Casil, “Do not bring this  _ sunvaar,  _ this  _ monster _ . This is the last time I will allow his presence here.”

Casil swallowed hard, feeling the disappointed gaze of the elder dragon. She averted her gaze, nodding before turning to Odahviing. Miraak chuckled, following behind her.

“Don’t worry. I have no interest to see you again,” Miraak replied, climbing onto Odahviing’s neck once Casil was on.

Paarthurnax bared his teeth. “We will be watching you,” Paarthurnax rumbled. “It sorrows me to see you have chosen to stay by his side, _laat dovahkiin._ _Krosis,_ truly.”

Casil bit her lower lip as Odahviing spread his wings. To her surprise, Odahviing spoke up again. “You are no less of a tyrant, Paarthurnax. At least the dragonborn will allow me to be what I am,” he retorted, before taking to the sky. Casil lurched forward, gripping onto the monster’s scaly neck as they rapidly rose into the air. She was relieved that none of the dragons below followed them, but she couldn’t help but constantly glance around in case any where.

“So, then,” Miraak spoke up once they had gathered some distance from the Throat of the World. “You side with me?”

Odahviing snorted over the roar of the wind, catching what Miraak had said. “No. I side with  _ mal dovahkiin.” _

“Who sides with me.”

Casil could feel the dragon’s back and neck rumble with his growl. “I do not take orders from you, Miraak. I never will. But if Casil is to side with you…” His voice trailed off. “Then I side with you more then I side with Paarthurnax, in that case.” His voice carried contempt, and Casil could feel his scales bristle under her hands as she clung to him.

Casil did not like to think that they were against Paarthurnax too, but it was obvious that if she continued to be with Miraak, she would be against the old dragon. The Greybeards and Paarthurnax did not like Miraak in the least, and it seems that since Alduin’s fall the dragons had become two factions: Paarthurnax and the Way of the Voice, and Miraak. She would have to discuss it with Miraak later. Casil reached out and pat the dragon’s neck in reassurance, unsure if he would trust any translation Miraak offered while he was unable to see Casil. Odahviing did not seem any happier to be considered part of Miraak’s colors, but it seemed he was as loyal to Casil as he insisted when Alduin had fell. And if Casil flew Miraak’s banner, then so did he… even if it pained him to do so. Casil just wondered where Paarthurnax drew the line before he retaliated. 

They arrived at Fort Dawnguard just after evening fell. Casil couldn’t be happier to get inside, sopping wet from the downpour they had flown into. She hauled her bag of belongings off of the dragon’s back, hurrying it inside so she could get everything dried off. Nothing seemed to have happened since they had left, much to Casil’s relief. Odahviing agreed to linger around, though the dragon insisted that he speak to her later… preferably away from Miraak. She couldn’t blame him.

Jenassa sighed in relief as Casil shuffled into the fort, rushing over to help her with her bag. “It’s good to see you again, sera. I see you got the Scroll alright?”

Casil nodded, reaching up to brush her wet hair out of her face before she undid the leather straps that bound the scroll to her back. She removed the dripping black cloth from it, nodding to Serana as she joined them in the main hall. Casil held the scroll out to the vampire, wringing the cloth out.

Serana seemed to relax slightly. “Good. Now we just need one more…”

‘Have you gotten any more information on that one?’ Casil signed, taking off her robe so she could wring it out too and hang it by a fire.

Serana shook her head. “No, but I have a good feeling that it’s in the castle. We just have to get in now, and look.”

Miraak grunted, peeling his gloves off. “And I hope you’ve figured out a plan for that. I can’t imagine you plan on simply sneaking around while everyone’s there.”

Serana shook her head. “Like I said, there’s a entry that’s not used anymore on the far side of the castle. Part of the building has collapsed, and my mother’s study and garden are abandoned. Nobody seems to go there anymore, and if my mother hid it or left me any clues they’re over there.”

Casil nodded. ‘We should head out then when there’s a lull in activity at the castle.’

“That’s the plan, presuming you’re willing to go along,” Serana said, giving Miraak a uncertain glance.

Casil quickly agreed before Miraak could say anything else. The nord seemed a bit miffed, before grunting and turning to go change out of his own wet clothing. Serana and Jenassa helped Casil string up some of the wet clothing from her bag until Miraak had left the room, before Serana was the one who spoke up.

“I’m glad to see you’re back here alive. But I can’t say I’m happy to see him again,” she said lowly, grabbing a dry blanket for Casil as the bosmer tried to peel off another layer of soaked clothing.

Casil frowned, taking the blanket to dry herself off. ‘We worked it out.’

Jenassa pursed her lips. “You’ve said that a lot before, Casil.”

The bosmer averted her gaze. ‘I know. Let’s just get through all of this, alright? We need his help.’

Serana and Jenassa gave each other uneasy glances, before nodding. “Alright,” Jenassa said, shaking her head. “We’re just worried about you, Casil.”

‘I know you are,’ Casil signed, using the towel as a makeshift piece of clothing while the rest of hers dried.

 

The group gathered around one of the long dining room tables, both of their Elder Scrolls laid out in the middle next to a handful of maps.

“Alright,” Isran spoke, resting his hands against the far end of the table, “we only need one more Scroll to understand what we’re up against, correct?” 

Eyes fell on Dexion, and the blind man nodded. “Yes, from what I read in the first one… it spoke of a Scroll related to dragons, the one presumably our young dragonborn brought here, and another one of blood.”

Isran glanced to Serana. “And you believe that one is in your castle? And we’re supposed to trust you not to turn this against us?”

Serana frowned, but nodded. “Yes. Both Elder Scrolls will stay here, and I will take Casil, Miraak and Jenassa to infiltrate the castle. Trust me, if I had wanted to turn against you guys I would be taking the scrolls with me or something,” she said. 

‘Serana has helped us this far. I can’t imagine her turning on us now,’ Casil signed. 

Isran snorted. “We will hide the Scrolls as we see fit then. In case you  _ do  _ decide to turn on us, now that we’ve found the one Scroll you didn’t know the location of.”

Serana let out a frustrated exhale, before nodding again. She pulled out a crude map of the castle, laying it out on the table. She pointed to an arrow she’d drawn with the map. “There’s an old dock over here that used to be used for unloading supplies. Nobody goes to this side of the castle since part of it collapsed, so we should be able to get in fine. From there, we can investigate my mother’s garden and, hopefully, her study. With any luck, she’ll have left me some sort of clue. Nobody has been over there. From what I could see, it’s been completely abandoned. My father’s hatred for my mother hopefully has kept him from looking over there too.”

“How do you plan for us to get there unnoticed?” Miraak asked, folding his arms.

“We take a boat from further down the shore under the cover of night. That’s the best I’ve got, unless you have another plan. That being said, I don’t think they’ll expect anyone infiltrating the castle and probably won’t be on the lookout. We could take dragons to get over there to avoid being caught on the road, but we’ll also want to leave at night in hopes that nobody catches who’s leaving.”

Those in attendance at the table nodded. 

“Maybe we could send some extra dragons in other directions as a distraction?” Jenassa offered. “We won’t want to fly close together. It will be too obvious.”

Casil glanced to Miraak as she usually did.

“So be it,” he replied simply. “We just need to wait for the ideal time to leave. Under cloud cover, preferably, and when the castle is the least active.”

“So we wait in a spike in activity outside of the castle?” Jenassa asked.

Isran nodded. “I have information coming in daily. There’s less vampire activity right now, but we expect for it to pick up within the next week.”

“And with fall here, I’m sure the weather will stay abysmal as it always is,” Serana added.

‘What should we do in the meantime?’ Casil asked.

“Just prepare. I don’t know what we’ll find in the castle, if anything… but we should be ready for the worst,” Serana replied grimly. “We can’t bring too much in either, or it will be hard to get there and stay hidden.”

Casil, Miraak and Jenassa nodded. 

“I will keep you all updated on what I get back from my scouts,” Isran said, straightening his back. He reached out to take the Elder Scrolls. “And i’ll be taking these, unless any of you have any complaints,” he said, eyeing Miraak specifically.

Casil and Jenassa shook their heads, and Miraak just grunted. “No. I will trust you to keep them safe,” he replied calmly. “And if that’s the end of this meeting, I have things I need to attend to.” 

Casil nodded in agreement. ‘As do I. Odahviing wanted to speak to me.’

Jenassa raised a brow at the two of them, before nodding. “Alright. Do you need us to go with you?”

Casil furrowed her brow at the question, before shaking her head. ‘No, thank you. I just need to find a place that I can write for him. Preferably one that isn’t in the direct rain,’ she signed back, getting up. She noted Miraak’s silent exit from the room, before giving a nod to the others.

 

It was drizzling still outside. They had waited to hold their meeting until the following morning, but now the sun had risen and gave off some semblance of light from behind the thick cloud cover. Odahviing was curled up on the highest spire, watching the camp as people wearily went about their daily tasks. Casil noted that Miraak looked like he had gone off to another part of the fort to call for one of his own dragons, but Casil dismissed it. It wasn’t unusual at this point.

Odahviing raised his head as Casil approached, rain rolling off of his snout. “Dovahkiin,” he rumbled simply. Casil nodded her head to him in return, hurrying over to the little stand she had built some days earlier. She pulled a slab of chalk board out from under a blanket sitting down on a box before she began to write.

‘Thank you for helping. And putting up with Miraak.’ She turned the board, holding it up so Odahviing could see. 

The dragon uncoiled himself from around the tower and climbed down so he could better see what Casil was writing. The beast rumbled, scales clicking together. “He is arrogant and reckless to be so defiant to Paarthurnax. The dragon is far past his prime, but he commands a fair number of our kin.”

Casil bit her lower lip, using the blanket to wipe away the previous words. ‘I know. I’m trying to keep him from doing that kind of stuff, I really am.’

Odahviing settled down in front of the makeshift shelter. “He has too quickly forgotten the last time he angered the dov,” the beast shook his head, before giving a hum. “I hope that you do not think that I will protect him, dovahkiin.”

Casil frowned but shook her head. ‘I don’t expect you to. I appreciate you helping me at all.’

“I am weary of his plans,” Odahviing said. “And you are the only  _ joor  _ I have seen Miraak trust in many, many years. I trust you to keep him under control.”

Her frown grew. ‘What makes you think I can control him?’ She gave a sort of chuckle in response, giving the dragon a skeptical look. 

Odahviing shifted, letting out a long sigh. “Though I do not trust him, and am not fond that  _ you  _ trust him… there is no denying that he listens to you. If anyone can stop him from striving to take over Skyrim, it would be you.”

‘You’re really worried he’s going to do that?’

The dragon snorted. “His actions are clear. And you do not, anyways?”

Casil glanced to the side. She sighed herself, before shaking her head. ‘I’m doing my best, but I can’t guarantee you anything.’

Odahviing was quiet for a moment, tail brushing against the ground. “I do not expect you to,” he replied finally, turning to look to where the older man had been earlier. Casil followed his gaze, watching as Miraak conversed with Sulronaazrath. At last, Odahviing’s grey eyes returned to look at Casil. 

‘Do you really think Paarthurnax would start a fight against Miraak?’ Casil question, concern dominating her features.

He rumbled. “Should Miraak push his rule over all dragons, then I do not doubt that he would. Even if he claims to study the Way of the Voice to conquer his nature, I do not believe he would allow Miraak to try to claim such a title without a fight.”

Casil nodded, dropping her gaze to the chalk board. She drummed her fingers against the edge, before raising the chalk to write again. ‘We have to go sneak around a vampire castle soon, not far where Miraak last called you. Could you stay near by, in case something happens?’

The beast tilted his head, before chuckling. “Do you worry about the vampires, or the  _ deyra? _ ” he questioned.

‘Both. But mostly the vampires right now.’

Odahviing nodded his great head. “If that is what you wish. I will be near should you call for my help. But I would hope you would not expect me to leave any part of this castle intact should my help be needed.”

Casil managed a smile and shook her head. ‘No. Thank you, Odahviing.’

The dragon turned, climbing back up onto the tower. “I swore my loyalty to you,  _ dovahkiin.  _ I will do what I can to assist you.” With that, the dragon fell silent. Casil took his movement to indicate that he was done with what he needed to say, so she bowed her head to him before heading back into the fort.

Odahviing watched the bosmer leave, before his gaze returned to watching Miraak. The old dragonborn continued to speak to the blood dragon, before at last the smaller dragon took to the sky and Miraak turned around. Miraak clearly noticed Odahviing’s obvious stare, and carefully strode over.

[ “ _ Zu’u hind hi lost ni meyz ek wah zu’u _ _ ,”  _ ](-) Miraak mused, pausing several feet from the dragon’s roost. He rested his hands on his hips, tilting his head back to stare up at the monster. 

Odahviing hummed. [“](-) [ _ Ni ol pogaas ol hi lost _ _ ,”  _ ](-) the dragon replied smoothly. The reply caught Miraak off guard. A frown tugged at his features, and Odahviing chuckled before shaking rainwater off of his head. [“](-) [ _ Zu’u nis drun ek faas hi zeim rot ont tinvaak naal hi. Hi los hin zok paal, Miraak. _ _ ” _ ](-)

Miraak pursed his lips, digging his fingers into his sides. [“](-) [ _ Nid, hi vahzah. Nu, zu’u fen kos orin rahgron fod zu’u siiv hi meyz ek wah zu’u. _ _ ” _ ](-)

[ “ _ Hi lost meyz orin…  _ hm… what do you call it,  _ close? Voth ek, lost hi ni? _ _ ” _ ](-)

[ “ _ Zu’u shavot pah aal koraav daar nu _ _ ,”  _ ](-) Miraak said with resignation.

[ “ _ Zu’u drey ni prodah hon hi tinvaak nii. Oblaan vonun nii? Hin pahlok bovul nol hi? _ _ ”  _ ](-) Odhaviing chuckled, tail flicking in amusement. Miraak narrowed his eyes, exhaling harshly. Odahviing continued to speak. [“](-) [ _ Nii aam hi pruzaan. _ _ ” _ ](-)

“Do you want something, Odahviing?” Miraak finally spoke, an edge to his voice. “I doubt you simply want to make small talk with me.”

The dragon shifted, a grin on his sharp maw. “I simply wish to remind you that I am on  _ mal doavhkiin’s  _ … side, if you wish,” he said. “Do not think I will not hesitate to devour you if you step over the line again, or believe you can pull her into any of your ill-devised plans.  _ Geh? _ ”

Miraak chuckled this time. “She makes her own choices, Odahviing. You cannot stop her if she chooses to make the right choice in following me,” he replied, before turning to re-enter the fort.

The reply made Odahviing narrow his eyes. [“](-) [ _ Hi mey, Miraak. Hi fen drun munax dinok nau ek, ahrk pah dovah wo aam hi. Zu’u dreh ni hind koraav niin grind grik oblaan, fah hin mal-koraav hahnu do lot ahrk suleyk. Pogaan mah fod hi sizaan suleyk. Pogaan mah fod Alduin sizaan dir. Zu’u faas sul fod suleyk ru hin klov ol nii drey ko vod. _ _ ” _ ](-)

Miraak paused, looking back to Odahviing. [“](-) [ _ Ni faas, Odhaviing,”  _ ](-) Miraak said, flashing the dragon a twisted smile. [“](-) [ _ Zu’u fen ni zorox daar folaas. Zu’u mindok nu tol zu’u mey us. Zu’u vaat hi zu’u fen ni frunt daar tiid. Ahrk nii fen ni kos Solstheim tol zu’u rel, nuz enook do Keizaal. _ ](-) [”](-) With that, he disappeared back into the fort.

Odahviing exhaled a stream of smoke from his nostrils, scales bristling. “I hope you can control him,  _ laat dovahkiin, _ ” the dragon muttered to himself. Because if she couldn’t, there would be another war on their hands.

 

The vampires seemed to be reconsidering their plans, or rebuilding their forces. News was quiet for a awhile, much to Casil’s frustration. She was starting to feel antsy, and part of her wanted to jump the gun and just go to get it over with. Of course, nobody else would have agreed to go ahead of plans, but it didn’t stop her from bringing it up a few times.

Packing had been finished by the end of the first day she’d been back, and it left plenty of time for training, planning, and… nothing else, really. Jenassa seemed to spent much of her time sparring with other members of the Dawnguard or hanging around Serana, someone Casil noticed she seemed to be getting quite close to. Casil was happy for her, but she felt like she’d been pushing the dunmer away. Serana and Jenassa were still uneasy about Miraak, and the three of them avoided each other when at all possible. Miraak largely kept to himself in the less populated portions of the Fort, busy with whatever plans he had going on his own. 

If nothing else, Casil was glad at least that nobody was  _ fighting.  _ And while Miraak did not show any sort of affection to her often, and certainly never around others, he did not anger her nor did he seem angry himself. If they weren’t anticipating breaking into a vampire castle, Casil wondered if she might actually be  _ relaxed  _ for once.

The four of them had collectively been sleeping in the remaining lesser used portion of the Fort, but after two days Jenassa and Serana had taken up to sleeping with the rest of the Dawnguard. On one hand, Casil was glad that people had become more accepting of Serana, but on the other hand Casil fully knew that there was a growing divide between the team. It left her and Miraak on their own, which Casil might have been thankful for if Miraak still didn’t sleep at least eight feet apart from her at all times, preferably with things between them. Miraak’s presence had driven off her two friends, and he wouldn’t even sleep near her to make up for it. She understood Miraak was still struggling with how to show his affections, but it was starting to make her unhappy again.

“He’s not harassing you again, is he?”

The question caught Casil off guard. She looked to Serana with big eyes, before shaking her head. ‘He’s just busy,’ she wrote after flipping to a new page in her journal.

The vampire pursed her lips, sitting on the edge of the table. She folded her arms across her chest, looking Casil up and down. “So he’s ignoring you.”

The bosmer frowned. ‘He’s just…’ she bit her lower lip in thought. ‘He’s not an affectionate person.’

“I’ve noticed,” Serana said with a sigh. She finally moved to sit down next to Casil, resting her head on her hand as she glanced to see what the smaller woman was doing. “You would think that the least he could do after throwing so many fits over you leaving would be to make some effort to show that he appreciates you.” Casil shrugged, looking down to fumble with the edge of the journal page. Serana looked Casil’s facial features over for a moment, before shaking her head. “I’m sorry if i’m making you feel worse,” she said, glancing down herself. 

Casil shook her head again. ‘You’re not. Really.’

“Jenassa and I are just worried about you. We don’t like seeing you so unhappy about this,” Serana admitted, glancing across the room to a nondescript point on the wall. “Jenassa especially worries about you.”

Casil furrowed her brow, glancing back to the vampire. ‘I know. I’m sorry about that. I know my choices aren’t always the best but-’

Serana reached out to stop Casil from continuing to write. She gave Casil a firm look, lips drawn into a thin line as she gave the bosmer’s hand a tight squeeze. “You deserve to be  _ happy  _ Casil.”

Serana’s action and tone caught Casil off guard. She froze up, before turning her head away. Serana’s grip loosened on her hand, and Casil finally replied. ‘I’m sorry,’ she wrote again, underlining it before exhaling. ‘I just don’t know what to do.’

Serana didn’t pull her hand off of Casil’s, but instead gave it a light pat. “Well, we’re here if you want to talk. Everyone here wants what’s best for you, Casil. At least, Jenassa and I do. So if you need anything… you know we’re here.”

Casil gathered the guts to look at Serana again. The vampire was worried, and it was evident on her face. ‘Thank you,’ Casil wrote, before giving the vampire a slight smile. ‘If I ever need to, I will.’

The answer wasn’t quite what Serana had been hoping for, but she gave Casil a smile in return. She got up, letting go of Casil’s hand. “I’ll let you get back to work,” she said softly, stepping away from the table. “But you know where to find me or Jenassa if you need to talk.”

Casil nodded in reply, watching the woman walk out of the dining room. She reached up to put a hand on her chest, glancing back to the journal with a sigh. Things were complicated.

 

“She didn’t want to talk?” Jenassa repeated.

Serana nodded with a sigh, leaning back in her chair. “Though that’s about what I expected.”

Jenassa rubbed her face. “I just don’t understand it.”

“Hm. They’re a complicated pair,” Dexion mused from his seat, idly tracing his fingers on the glass he held. 

“Do you have any ideas?” Serana idly asked. “Maybe a old bookworm like you might have some sort of clue. Because apparently we don’t.”

Dexion chuckled. “I do, actually. A theory, perhaps really. I wouldn’t say I know for certain, no no. I have a guess, after much musing about the subject. It’s quite interesting really, though I fully understand the frustration it’s causing you two.”

Jenassa raised her eyebrow. “Do you? Care to share?” She asked, bringing her own glass to her lips.

Dexion nodded. “If you’re willing to hear a old man’s ramblings.”

Serana shrugged, fully aware though that Dexion couldn’t see it. “Your guess is probably better than ours at this point. Maybe you have a better idea anyways since you aren’t as… invested in it, I suppose.”

“Well, I’m invested in it in a different way then you two are,” he corrected with a nodd of his head. “From a historian’s point of view though, i’m quite interested. You see,” he reached up to fix his blindfold. “From what our records state, there is rarely, if ever, two dragonborn at a time. While the kings of the Empire have historically been dragonborn, it does not seem that any two given individuals of the line exhibited dragonborn properties at the same time. Now, being a dragonborn is said to mean you are born with the soul of a dragon. And thus, in theory, more than one dragonborn would have to be alive at a time if they were heirs. But, it seems such traits were in hibernation, so you could say, until the passing of the previous ruler.”

Jenassa and Serana furrowed their brows, waiting for Dexion to get to his point.

“So, from a history’s perspective, Miraak and Casil are quite unusual. Previous dragonborn did not seem to exhibit the same extent of power as those two do, and a majority previous dragonborn were direct heirs of one another. Casil and Miraak, on the other hand, are separated by over 4000 years. If what we know is correct, and Miraak is indeed the first dragonborn, and Casil is the last, now that is quite a rare occurrence.”

“Where are you going with this?” Jenassa interjected, causing Dexion to turn his head towards her in surprise.

“Well, I suppose what I’m trying to say is I think that Miraak and Casil are tied by some sort of fate or destiny, if you believe in such things. You can’t say it isn’t poetic that the first and the last dragonborn would meet, despite the millennium that separated their births. Only one dragonborn ever really existed at a time in the past, always relatives of one another. These two may be the only occurrence of two dragonborn existing at a time, and two dragonborn who were not directly related to one another. I ruminated on some of the things you two said about him, and perhaps this is farfetched, but,” Dexion let go of his glass and folded his hands. “I recalled what Casil said, that the heros who sent Alduin forward in time wished to use Miraak to defeat him. Perhaps then, Miraak was to be the only dragonborn. Each dragonborn between Miraak and Casil did not exist in a time where dragons existed, and only had a symbolic role per say. The true dragonborns seemed to be the ones with the power to slay Alduin, which would be the first and the last dragonborns only. So, perhaps, Miraak was to be the only dragonborn. Akatosh himself perhaps allowed for a mortal to be born with the soul of the dragon, to defeat his first born when he began to step too far.” He paused, waiting to make sure the other two were keeping up.

“Go on,” Serana said, leaning forward in curiosity. 

“Miraak did not complete Akatosh’s plan. He took his own path, and fell in Hermaeus Mora’s hands. Alduin was sent forward in time presumably not long after, if I understand correctly. Saint Alessia was later granted power as a separate incident, to what seems to be a far lesser extent than Miraak did. As a failsafe, perhaps. In case Alduin would break through time earlier than anticipated. The Septim Dynasty continued this. Dragonborns, but without the same power as Miraak and Casil do. So, simply, Casil could have been granted a separate power as Miraak did. It would not be strange to assume that. But, part of me wonders, if perhaps Casil is a fragment of Miraak’s power, or through her power she has a sort of tie to her predecessor. Two beings who were never supposed to have met, and one who perhaps should never have existed if the other hadn’t blundered. I believe they are bound together. Perhaps, by chance. Maybe by the hand of Akatosh or Hermaeus Mora themselves. Or simply because of what they are. They are the first and the last dragonborn, both fated to defeat Alduin. Both with powers never seen at the same time until now. I know, perhaps, that I am simplifying or perhaps even romanticizing the idea of two individuals pulled across to each other over thousands of years, but you can see where i’m getting at, can you not?”

Silence fell at the table. Dexion shifted a little bit uncomfortably, hoping he hadn’t made things worse.

“So you think it’s destiny that Casil and Miraak end up together?” Jenassa asked.

Dexion nodded. “Yes. I believe that two dragonborn existing at the same time is no chance. Two dragonborn, the first and the last at that. It is unprecedented in history.”

“Maybe,” Serana said, pushing herself up from the table. “But i’m not going to just… accept that.”

Dexion shook his head. “I would not expect you too. It’s simply what my guess is at this time. I apologize if I made things worse,” he said, giving an uneasy chuckle.

“No, it’s fine Dexion. We asked, anyways,” Serana said, fixing her dress. “I suppose it’s just hard to swallow that those two might… be destined to be together.”

“Because you think he isn’t good enough for her,” Dexion said simply.

Jenassa looked into her glass. “Something like that.”

Dexion chuckled. “Then don’t stop doing what you think is right. This is just the ramblings of a old man anyways,” he said, waving his hand. “It’s not a truth. Don’t let my words stop you, if you think she needs help.”

Serana gave Dexion a slight smile. “Thank you. I appreciate you sharing it anyways. It’s… interesting to consider.”

He nodded. “I still hope things work out for all of you. It’d be a mighty shame if it didn’t, after all of this.”

Serana glanced to Jenassa, before turning to leave. “I do too. For all of our sake’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Zu'u drey ni prodah hi wah aam daar thur, Odahviing." - I did not predict you to serve this tyrant, Odahviing.
> 
> “Zu’u aam fin laat dovahkiin, ahrk fin laat dovahkiin nunon.” - I serve the last dragonborn, and the last dragonborn only.
> 
> “Ni ov zu’u nu?” - Don’t trust me still?
> 
> “Tiid hi wahl dreh wah dov, mu fen krii hi. Ni los nunon fah hi aak laat dovahkiin kriin un laat jun daarhi lahney. Mu mindok pogaan dovah qiilaan wah hin rel. Mindok ni pah do mu fen.” - The moment you make a action against the dragons, we will kill you. It is only because you helped the last dragonborn slay our last ruler that you live. We know many dragons bow to your rule. Know not all of us will.
> 
> “Zu’u prodah hi wah. Nuz Zu’u los ni faas hi, uv daar wo aam hi. Hi los wuth ahrk nis koraav vahzah suleyk, Paarthurnax. " -I expect you to. But I am not afraid of you, or those who serve you. You are old and cannot see true power, Paarthurnax.
> 
> “Mu fen ag hi golt!” - We will burn you to the ground!
> 
> "Nid." “Rok fen koraav ok folaas fod rok dein nau ok miiraad.” - No. He will see his mistakes if he keeps on this path.
> 
> “Zu’u hind hi lost ni meyz ek wah zu’u,” - I hope you were not turning her against me.
> 
> “Ni ol pogaas ol hi lost,” - Not as much as you have.
> 
> “Zu’u nis drun ek faas hi zeim rot ont tinvaak naal hi. Hi los hin zok paal, Miraak.” - I cannot make her fear you beyond words already spoken by you. You are your greatest enemy, Miraak.
> 
> “Nid, hi vahzah. Nu, zu’u fen kos orin rahgron fod zu’u siiv hi meyz ek wah zu’u.”- No, you are right. Still, I will be quite angry if I find you are turning her against me.
> 
> “Hi lost meyz orin… hm… what do you call it, close? Voth ek, lost hi ni?” - You have become quite...hm… what do you call it, close? With her, have you not?
> 
> “Zu’u shavot pah aal koraav daar nu,” - I believe all may see that now.
> 
> “Zu’u drey ni prodah hon hi tinvaak nii. Oblaan vonun nii? Hin pahlok bovul nol hi?” - I did not expect to hear you speak it. Finished hiding it? Your arrogance fled from you?
> 
> “Nii aam hi pruzaan.” - It serves you better.
> 
> “Hi mey, Miraak. Hi fen drun munax dinok nau ek, ahrk pah dovah wo aam hi. Zu’u dreh ni hind koraav niin grind grik oblaan, fah hin mal-koraav hahnu do lot ahrk suleyk. Pogaan mah fod hi sizaan suleyk. Pogaan mah fod Alduin sizaan dir. Zu’u faas sul fod suleyk ru hin klov ol nii drey ko vod.” - You are a fool, Miraak. You will bring a cruel death on her, and all the dragons who serve you. I do not wish to see them meet such an end, because of your short sighted dreams of greatness and power. Many fell when you lost power. Many fell when Aludin died. I fear the day when power runs to your head as it did in the past.
> 
> “Ni faas, Odhaviing,” “Zu’u fen ni zorox daar folaas. Zu’u mindok nu tol zu’u mey us. Zu’u vaat hi zu’u fen ni frunt daar tiid. Ahrk nii fen ni kos Solstheim tol zu’u rel, nuz enook do Keizaal.” - Don’t fear, Odahviing.I will not make that mistake. I know now that I was a fool before. I promise you I will not fail this time. And it will not be Solstheim that I rule, but all of Skyrim.


	66. LXVI. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank u all my lovely readers ;u;/  
> Also i'm sorry for not having a beta reader;;; Every time I re-read my chapters while i'm lazing in bed or caught waiting for something I catch a new typo, missing phrase or weird word repetition and i'm soRRY

Casil carefully tried to pull her cloak around herself tighter without losing too much of her grip on Odahviing’s back. She couldn’t see the ground thanks to the thick cloud cover, but she knew they were almost at their destination. She could faintly make out another dragon on the horizon line against one of the  moons, though which dragon and who was on its back was unsure to her. 

The four of them had taken a different dragon at different times in hopes of throwing off anything that  might be watching them, though Casil was uncertain on how well it would work. For once, she missed Miraak sitting behind her. She was uneasy about what was ahead of them, and even if they didn’t really talk while on dragons his presence was reassuring. She had Odahviing, she supposed. He had already proven to be a loyal ally, and there wasn’t much that beat a dragon as your backup.

They had planned on meeting up south of where the other dock was, at a small port. A handful of Dawnguard members had managed to get them a small boat, and were waiting for them at the docks… or at least, Casil hoped they were. If the Volkihar clan found out what they were doing… Casil shivered at the thought. At least the dragons would be close by for assistance, as long as Miraak could call them. If the vampires were smart though, they’d make Miraak their first target.

“Are you ready?” Odhaviing rumbled, turning his head slightly to try to catch a head nod from Casil. It wouldn’t matter if she was ready or not anyways. Casil nodded anyways, giving his neck a pat in case he didn’t see her nod. The dragon chuckled. “Hold on then,” he said, before he began to dive down.

Casil held onto his neck tightly, using one of his spines as support. Water droplets collected on her face as they dipped into the clouds, and Casil cursed not bringing some sort of scarf to cover her face with. She certainly couldn’t adjust anything now. She was sure if she let go she’d just fall off. Finally Odahviing broke the clouds to the drizzly land below. Casil could make out the lights of the tiny port in the distance. 

“You are sure you can make it there in the dark?” Odahviing questioned. 

Casil pursed her lips, before giving his back a pat again. The dragon nodded, before finding a place to land near the beach south of the port. He allowed Casil to slide off his neck, before giving his scales a shake. 

“Be safe,  _ dovahkiin, _ ” he said lowly. “I will be near should you call.” With that, the dragon spread his wings and took to the sky again.

Casil adjusted her cloak, wiping her face off with a sleeve before turning towards the lights of the port. Hopefully the others had made it, but in this dim light she couldn’t tell. Admittedly, that was the point… but it made her skittish.

Casil walked down the beach, careful to stay away from the water’s edge and any object she could detect in the darkness. Which admittedly, wasn’t much. Several times she tripped on a log or a rock, and once she bumped into a sleeping horker. She was thankful nothing was out looking for a meal, wild animal and vampire alike.

Casil wasn’t sure if she could call the small town a real port, but it had docks, several moored ships, and a warehouse for storage. A Dawnguard member dressed as a guard greeted her towards the town’s edge, and helped her towards the dock before leaving her be. 

Only Serana had made it there already, and the vampire was huddled down in the dark of one of the large ships.

“Glad to see you made it. I was afraid something might have happened to the rest of you,” she whispered when Casil got closer.

Casil pulled her notebook out, moving to allow just enough light to fall on the pages so that Serana could read what she wrote. ‘So it’s just the two of us so far?’ Serana’s dragon must have been the one she’d seen ahead of them.

Serana nodded. “I haven’t been here for too long, but I didn’t expect to be the first one.”

‘I’m sure the others will arrive soon,’ Casil assured, more for herself then anything. ‘Do we know which boat is ours?’

Serana nodded, before motioning towards a dock a few piers over. “It’s a small one, only a tad bigger than the one we took to the castle the first time.” 

‘Should be easy to keep hidden then, if we can row it up shore to the castle.’

“That will be the catch then,” Serana muttered. “We’re not exactly  _ close. _ ”

‘We’ll have to take turns then. Or at least Miraak and Jenassa will.’

Serana chuckled. “Neither of us are exactly built for that, huh?”

Casil smiled back with a peevish shrug. ‘I’m not. I’m fine with letting those two do the heavy lifting.’

“I just hope they show up soon,” Serana replied, shifting as her eyes scanned the town for either of the remaining party members.

Casil nodded in agreement, moving to lean against a sign post.

The two stood in silence until Jenassa arrived maybe ten minutes later. Casil and Serana were relieved, but the relief did not last long.

“So, we’re only waiting on Miraak then?” Jenassa questioned.

Casil nodded, frowning slightly. It was unusual for him to be late she felt. If anything, he was usually the first one around. She shifted uncomfortably. ‘Do you think he’s alright?’

Jenassa snorted. “Do you really think he wouldn’t be? Of all people?”

‘I’m just… worried maybe Mora got to him or something,’ Casil admitted, wearily eyeing the water.

Jenassa and Serana glanced to each other. “I’m sure he’s fine,” Serana insisted, though she hadn’t considered that possibility. “He’s got dragons around him anyways. I doubt he’d be attacked when they’re near by.”

Casil pursed her lips. She hoped Serana was right.

Thee next half hour passed by with a painful slowness, until at last Miraak appeared out of the darkness. Casil let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing when made it into their sight.

Miraak scanned the three from behind his mask, something Casil was disappointed to see again. “So. Are we all ready to leave then?”

‘What took you so long?’ Casil signed.

“I took a longer way to get here,” he replied. “Though I did not expect for all of you to get here so soon. Why?”

Casil frowned. ‘I was worried.’

Miraak grunted, turning to head towards their boat. “You have no reason to worry about me.”

Casil pouted at him, but followed. 

 

Casil was glad she didn’t get as sick as she had in the past, but the paranoia of being on the open water in enemy territory made up for that. Miraak and Jenassa changed who was in charge of rowing, carefully making their way towards the dim set of lights that emanated from the castle up ahead. Not once did she dare to even glance over the edge of the boat. The fear of one of Mora’s minions lurking below the waves was too real, too  _ possible.  _ She wasn’t honestly sure if she feared the vampires or Mora finding her more.

The small boat drifted quietly into a tiny inlet into the castle towards the back. The four pulled it as far in as they could before they tied it to the tiny dock. 

The dock did not look like it had been touched in hundreds of years. Most of the planks had rotted away and fallen into the sea, and the stone portion of the small alcove were coated with debris and bird shit. A handful of rotting planks that might have once been crates were piled up against one of the back walls, and the metal holders designed for torches were rusty and corroded. A door hung slightly ajar at the back wall, faring as poorly as the dock. 

Once in the cover of the walls, Jenassa produced a torch and lit it. “You’re right. This place doesn’t look like it’s been touched in centuries,” she muttered, holding the torch up to inspect the door.

“Don’t think it’s safe though,” Miraak warned, carefully trying to pry the door open. The rotting wood crumbled as he pulled back on it, and he resorted to just kicking down the rest of the wood until there was a opening big enough for the four of them to enter through. He lit up a magelight, moving just far enough in to let the other three follow. Once in, he turned to glance at Serana. “Do you have any idea where to start looking?”

Serana nodded, staying against the wall. “The courtyard. It’s not far I don’t think, but I can’t say i’ve actually  _ been  _ through these parts of the castle. Even as a kid, this part wasn’t really… used.”

Miraak grunted, keeping the magelight close so it wouldn’t cast light too far beyond their current room. He edged up the short staircase that led to the next door, gripping the handle before wearily opening it. “ _ Laas Yah Nir.”  _ He scanned the area before them, before carefully leaning back. “We have company. You said this area was  _ abandoned, _ ” he hissed.

Serana seemed surprised. “As far as I know, it is. How do you know there’s things over there?”

‘Skeletons, I think,’ Casil signed after a moment, her fingers dancing with a dark purple magic. ‘Not vampires. Maybe one vampire. Can’t really tell.’

The other three glanced to her, and Miraak put his hand on his sword. “That one vampire better not be one of your family members,” he warned Serana, before pushing into the next room. Casil scurried after him, lighting a small fire in her hand. 

The interior of the castle was as desolate as the outside. Thick cobwebs stretched between the rotten remains of furniture and cargo crates, which were nearly indistinguishable from each other. Signs of inhabitation by small birds and rats were the only sign of life or activity, which made Casil a little less weary. The thick dust that coated the ground was only disturbed by the small footprints and tail marks of mice, and little else. She noted a few skeletons hidden amongst the clutter, one under a old sheet and a few others discarded on what might have been a chair and table once. She motioned to them, and Jenassa made short work of them with a well-placed arrow to the head. Their bones slowly cluttered to the ground, and Casil could hear someone shift in the next room.

“Huh?” A raspy voice grunted. 

Miraak motioned for the three to stand back, moving to the side of the doorway. Casil took cover behind a pile of crates, extinguishing the fires in her hand. Jenassa and Serana hid behind another pile, the dunmer extinguishing her own torch. Miraak hid his magelight in his robe, leaving just enough light to see the doorway. Casil listened as someone shuffled behind the door, followed by the sniffing of what Casil assumed were deathounds. She gritted her teeth, reaching to her belt to grab her dagger. Miraak straightened his back, sword ready to strike when the door opened.

Slowly, the door knob turned. A vampire peered in, and Miraak did not waste time to strike. The sword smashed into the vampire’s face, embedding itself a few inches into the monster’s face. Without as much as a cry, the vampire crumpled into ash at Miraak’s feet. The two deathounds that accompanied him snarled, lurching to fight. Miraak kicked the first one back, driving his sword into the second before whirling to kill the one he’d kicked. He backed against the wall, quickly surveying the room the vampire had come from before giving a sign that the coast was clear.

Serana scurried towards him, crouching down by the pile of ash to investigate the vampire’s remains. “Feral, I think. He wasn’t one of the family… or at least, he hasn’t been for a long time. We should be safe,” she said, pushing the dirty and torn clothing the vampire had been wearing off the pile.

“You better pray that you are right,” Miraak said lowly, letting the magelight float near him again. If nothing else, his Aura Whisper didn’t note much more near them. 

Casil and Jenassa followed in. Casil used the fire from her hands to survey the room, holding it over a table pushed against one of the walls. It was lined with bloody remains, though she could tell they were old. ‘Might have been living off of what the others didn’t finish. These bones are at least a week old,’ she signed.

Jenassa wrinkled her nose at the smell. “I can tell. Disgusting,” she muttered.

Serana pursed her lips, before lighting her own magelight to see. “I think if we head up these stairs, we might be able to reach the courtyard.”

“That may be our only choice,” Miraak muttered, looking over a heap of crumbled stone that covered what may have been another passage. A dirty bedroll was pushed up near one of the collapsed pillars along with the meager belongings of the feral vampire, but beyond that the room was about as desolate as the rest of the area they’d explored. Serana allowed Miraak to take lead again, extinguishing her magelight once she’d lost use for it. Jenassa and Casil followed behind, taking a bit more time in the dark.

The webbing that covered the remains of furniture grew thicker the further the hallway went. Spiders scurried out of their way as the group proceeded, becoming bigger as the webs grew thicker. 

“Do you think-” Jenassa began.

“That there is a large spider down here? Yes. There is,” Miraak grunted. Lightning crackled around his hand, and he took a step forward. 

Casil caught the reflection of light in eight giant eyes down the tunnel, before there was a sort of hissing noise. The magelight washed upon a pair of giant, hairy legs as the large tundra spider reared up, taking a step back as Miraak approached. Casil didn’t waste time. She threw a fireball at the arachnid, causing it to hiss as embers erupted over its carapace. Miraak threw her a look, before unleashing a blinding lightning bolt at it. The spider tried to wipe the embers off of itself, staggering before it took a jump at the two dragonborn. A icicle embedded itself into the creature’s eyes, and it came to a sliding stop a few feet from Miraak. He approached it, giving it another shock before he tried to nudge it out of the way with his sword. 

“Now it’s in our way,” he grumbled at Casil disapprovingly.

Casil shrugged, purple magic glowing around her hand before it extended to the spider. Its body shuddered, before it slowly raised back to its feet. The resurrected spider stepped back at Casil’s silent demand, backing through its webs.

“Necromancy comes in handy,” Serana said as she passed Miraak, throwing him a smirk. The old dragonborn glared at her under his mask, before reluctantly following.

The spider backed up into what was its previous housing in a skylight, allowing the four to pass by it. Between Miraak and Jenassa used their blades to cut through the thick wall of webbing that prevented them from passing through, until at last the four were able to step out into the courtyard.

Walls towered up on all sides of the courtyard, crumbling and collapsing into the courtyard itself. The plants hadn’t been tended to in many years, allowing them to grow over all of the pathways and statues that had once decorated the open space. At its center was a giant sundial, faintly visible in the dim dawn light. 

“Well… this is it. My mother’s courtyard… we used to tend a garden out here. All of our potion ingredients came from what we grew,” Serana said quietly, stepping into the courtyard slowly. The last time I saw my mother, she told me she’d go somewhere safe… somewhere that my father would never search. My father hated this place. Said it was too peaceful,” she extended her fingers to brush along a large nightshade plant that sprouted up between a few of the flagstones. “If my mother has left any clues to where she or the scroll is… I think it’d be here.”

The four spread out through the courtyard, looking it over. Casil crouched down by the sundial, looking it over. It was intricate, with a goldish metal that had been tarnished with age. Around it were glass inlays with the phases of the moon, though a few were missing. Serana stopped by Casil, frowning. 

“I don’t remember it looking like this,” she muttered.

“Perhaps because it’s broken,” Miraak retorted from the other side of the courtyard, looking over a few of the statues.

Serana threw him a look, before moving to look around as well. 

“Did you get along with your mother?” Jenassa asked, brushing a overgrown tree aside as she checked under it.

Serana glanced at her in surprise. “Well enough. She was almost as obsessed as my father by the time she shut me into the crypt though. None of the members of my family are particularly… sane, so to speak,” she grimaced. “But I guess I could say that I got along with her better then my father.”

“And you’re sure she will help us, if we find her?” Miraak asked.

Serana pursed her lips. “She’s the one who put me in that crypt with the scroll, remember? She didn’t want my father to get his hands on it, or the other one we had. She must not have wanted it to come to fruition, whatever  _ it  _ is. I’ll be honest, I’ll be stunned if she doesn’t want to help us stop him.”

“That’s right. Your father didn’t seem too fond of her when we met him,” Jenassa commented. 

Serana nodded, pushing some plants aside. “I can’t imagine what went down after she put me away. I’m… honestly a little surprised she escaped. Thankful, but surprised.”

“And you think she had time to leave something here? Where your father could find it?” Miraak asked.

Serana let out an irritated sigh, throwing him a glare. “Like I said, this would probably be one of the last places my father would check. And I have no doubt she left any hints before I fell asleep. I know you seem to doubt it, but my mother was a brilliant woman.”

Casil ignored the conversation, lost in picking through the plants. She waded through chest-high grasses, pushing them aside as she scoured the ground. The faint glimmer of water caught her eye, and she made her way towards a small, murky pond towards one of the ponds. Casil put her hands on her hips, watching a few small frogs hop into the water as she disturbed them. Casil created a magelight in one hand, before gently letting it drift over the pond. The eyes of a few of the frogs quickly dipped under the water as the light neared, but the glimmer of something else in one of the corners caught Casil’s eyes. She paused, before carefully making her way around the edge of the pond. Amongst the reeds, Casil could make out one of the glass disks that made up the sun dial. Algae had overgrown most of it where it sat half in the pond, but after pulling it out and wiping the face off in the grass Casil could see that it was the half moon symbol. She straightened herself back out, glancing back at the three as they bickered back and forth before she wandered back to the sundial. She crouched down to where she thought the crest should go, gently settling it back into place. There was a quiet but audible ‘click’, which caused Serana to pause in her argument with Miraak.

“What was that?” She questioned, furrowing her brow as she turned to face Casil. Casil simply motioned to the piece she’d put down, still crouched down next to it. Serana walked over to her, crouching down next to her. “Maybe… this is what my mother was talking about,” she whispered, before quickly standing. “We need to find the other two pieces.”

Miraak shifted to make a retort, but to Casil’s surprise he decided not to. He gave a simple nod of his head instead, before turning to continue looking.

Serana found the second on, the full moon panel, hidden in her mother’s garden. Again, setting it into place caused a soft clicking noise below. The final piece was not found until the sun had broken the horizon. Miraak found it after cautiously traveling into one of the other sections of the buildings, hidden under a table.

Once the final piece, the crescent  moon, had been returned to its place, there was a louder click followed by a rumble. The party stepped back as the dial raised up with the grinding of gears, which made them glance back towards the main part of the castle in worry. Beneath the dial though, to their surprise, was a staircase.

“This… has to be what my mother was talking about,” Serana said, carefully looking down the spiral staircase.

“We should hurry… incase any of your kin heard the noise,” Miraak grumbled, glancing back at the castle before taking the lead again. Casil let Serana go next, before her and Jenassa followed.

Once the four reached the next level, the sundial slowly closed behind them. Serana and Miraak lit up a magelight again in the pitch-black hallway, letting everyone’s eyes re-adjust to the darkness before progressing. 

The dust and cobwebbing was as thick down there as it had been in the previous rooms, with even less sign of inhabitation. The hall was cluttered with the remains of carpets and furniture, stretching until it reached a door. A pair of gargoyles guarded either side of the door, and Casil could visibly see a few skeletons standing near them. 

Jenassa drew an arrow, taking aim at one of the skeletons. The arrow hit its mark in the construct’s skull, but the second it collapsed the two statues rumbled.

Casil stepped back in surprise as the gargoyles suddenly burst to life, breaking away from a thin shell of stone to lunge forward. Miraak drew his sword, unleashing lightning upon the closest one to him. The gargoyle charged through the attack, letting out a roar as it lashed out with wickedly sharp claws. Miraak parried the attack with his word, but the sheer force shoved him to the side. Casil backed away quickly, trying to keep from becoming the target of the other gargoyle. 

Serana hurled a ice spike at the second charging gargoyle, catching it in one of its wings. The beast grunted, but much like the other one it continued to charge. Jenassa dropped her bow, pulling out her swords with a war cry so she could meet it in close combat. The gargoyle slammed into her, knocking her to the ground before she could get in a swing. 

Miraak winced as he brought his gauntlet up to block another blow from the gargoyle, feeling the metal slam into his arm with almost enough force to break the bone. “ _ Fo Krah Diin! _ ” he hissed. Ice expanded out, slamming into the gargoyle like a cold web. The beast staggered back, slowly trying to catch its balance as frost crept over its form. Miraak used its delayed actions to lunged, bringing his sword across the monster’s chest. The blade didn’t cut into it like skin, but instead chipped away a chunk of it like stone. The dragonborn brought the blade around again to try to hit it in the face, breaking one of its horns before the gargoyle tried to bite him. Miraak jerked back, unleashing lightning on it as he kept his sword open to block.

Jenassa rolled aside before the gargoyle could slam a clawed foot into her head, narrowly avoiding the attack. Serana hurled another ice spike into the gargoyle, hitting it this time in the chest. The gargoyle snarled, whipping its attention to the vampire. The beast dropped onto all fours, lunging at Serana next. She winced as its claws grazed her side, using the opportunity to try to shove another icicle into its skull. The attack missed, clattering to the ground instead. Jenassa pushed herself to her feet, cursing to herself for being knocked down. Casil hurled a fireball at the gargoyle before it could get another hit in on Serana, causing it to stagger. It was enough time for Jenassa to plunge her swords into its back. The gargoyle howled in pain, arching back as Jenassa used her full strength to push the swords through the monster. It slowly seemed to stiffen, before the monster crumbled into bits and pieces of rock. 

Jenassa withdrew her blades from the stone, turning to see if Miraak needed help. The gargoyle that had attacked him lay shattered in a pile at the dragonborn’s feet, and he had turned his attention to making short work of the remaining skeletons that had moved to try to join in the fight. 

“Looks like she made sure not to leave it unprotected,” Serana cursed, wincing at the cut in her side. 

“Are you alright?” Jenassa asked, sheathing her swords as she hurried to Serana’s side.

The vampire nodded. “Yeah. Just a little cut is all. Don’t worry about it.”

Casil walked over, swatting Serana’s hand aside so she could look at it. It wasn’t a small cut, but it wasn’t too deep. Casil carefully healed it up with magic to Serana’s relief as Miraak made his way ahead, waiting next to the door to the next room. 

“Thanks Casil,” Serana said with a smile, giving her shoulder a squeeze before turning to move towards the door herself.

Casil nodded her head with a smile of her own, hurrying to get to the other end as well. Her smile quickly faded though as she noticed a certain stiffness to Miraak’s posture. His arms were crossed, and his magelight hung ominously behind his shoulder. The bosmer pursed her lips. Why was he mad…?

Once they had gotten closer to the door, Miraak simply turned to carefully open it. The door lead to what must have been some sort of leisure room. The remains of a large table sat at the center surrounded by the crumpled remains of chairs. A few tattered armchairs sat around web-covered fireplace, and shelves lined with moth-eaten books lined the walls. He stepped in, checking the room out from the wall before stepping further in. “It’s empty.”

The other three followed, cautious at first until they full room came into sight.

“And a dead end,” Jenassa sighed, putting her hands on her hips as she made her way to the center of the room.

Casil felt her heart drop. Sure enough, it didn’t look like there was any other passage.

“This… this can’t be right,” Serana stammered, looking around the room. “We didn’t miss anything back there, so-”

“Maybe there was nothing here to begin with,” Miraak said stiffly, arms still folded across his chest.

“There has to be a secret entrance somewhere. There has to be,” Serana continued, hurrying around the edges of the room.

Casil slinked in last, biting her lower lip. What if there wasn’t? She eyed a few suits of old armor mounted against one of the walls, and the tarnished goblets that lay under a sheet of dust on the shelves. There wasn’t much in the room, and since most of it had rotted away it left the remainder of the room looking empty and bare. If there was a hidden entry, Casil figured it’d be easy to see at this point once you brushed past the cobwebs. She made her way to stand near Miraak, hoping to at least defuse some of the tension. Miraak’s mask tilted slightly as she made her way to his side, but he made no remark. Casil could feel the frustration radiate from him, and it made her grind her teeth in unease.

Jenassa threw Miraak and Casil a glance, maybe for not helping in their search, before moving to the other side of the room to look. The two dragonborn watched as their companions frantically searched for… something,  _ anything.  _ Maybe this was where the secret was. Maybe somewhere in here was a clue. Anything at this point; the whole party was afraid that maybe this had all been for nothing.

Serana’s hands fell on a candlestick on the wall next to the fireplace. It wiggled, before turning with a low click. To everyone’s surprise, part of the wall shifted, before rumbling open. Serana quickly shot Miraak a look. “See,” she spat. “There  _ was  _ a hidden door.”

Miraaks fingers pressed a bit tighter into his arm, noticeable only to Casil but enough for her to know that his patience was very thin. She reached up to grab his arm, giving it a squeeze before trying to pull him forward. He flinched at the sudden contact, whipping his head to presumably glare at her until he remembered who it was. She felt him relax very slightly under her grip, which was enough for her. Jenassa entered the next room with Serana, and the pair of dragonborn followed after.

The secret door opened up into a surprisingly decent sized room. The floor dipped in the center, with four sets of stairs that led up to a higher portion of the room on all four sides. Shelves and desks were covered in alchemy and necromancy components, some spilling to the brim with soul gems, bones, and the shriveled remains of plants. Casil’s eyes went wide as she stepped in, looking around the room in awe.

“This… must be my mother’s laboratory,” Serana whispered, carefully stepping down to the center of the room. She spun to look at all of it, a smile on her face. “This is it. This must be where she left… something, anything. A clue. This must have been where she was talking about.”

“So what are we looking for in here do you think?” Jenassa asked, looking at the stacks of regents on one of the desks.

“Well, the best bet would be to find one of her journals. That might give us a direction if there isn’t anything else,” Serana replied, making her way over to one of the desks. 

Casil looked to Miraak, before letting go of his arm. She made her way to another one of the desks, sorting through the collection of bones and necromancy supplies that had been left there. If there was one thing that Casil could say for certain about Serana’s mother, it was that she really knew what she was doing. Casil wondered if anybody would be sad to find any of the supplies missing, if nothing else.

Miraak surveyed the room, before turning to investigate one of the bookshelves that lined the wall near where they had come in. His fingers trailed over the spines of the various well worn and moth-eaten books. Familiarity came from most of the books. Things he’d read. Things he knew. Finally his hand came to rest on an unfamiliar book, and he gingerly pulled it off of the shelf. A journal, one of many it seemed. He carefully flipped it open, thumbing through the pages as he very rapidly scanned each page with thousands of years worth of practice and experience. Nothing. He returned it to the shelf, before moving to the next unfamiliar book. He repeated the process a few times, until at last the journal game to an abrupt halt.

The Soul Cairn. Serana’s mother had been working on a way to enter the Soul Cairn, and from the sounds of it that was where she had gone.

“Finely ground bone meal, purified void salt, and soul gem shards,” he stated simply, snapping the journal closed.

The other three glanced back at him in surprise. 

“What?” Serana questioned, looking at the book with a furrowed brow.

“Your mother. She created a portal to the Soul Cairn,” Miraak stated, striding over as he offered out the journal to her. “Those were the ingredients she used to get there. We will need them to reach her. The rest is blood, and this.” He motioned to the ring of silver embedded in the ground at the center of the room. 

Serana grabbed the journal, flipping open to the last written entries. She read it over, before looking at the ground below Miraak. “The Soul Cairn… that… makes sense. My father would never be able to reach her there,” she murmured, nodding. “Alright. She must have left some of the regents around- there’s no way she didn’t.”

Jenassa stepped back from where she had been looking. “I can look for soul gem shards. That’s… about the only thing i’ll be able to identify,” Jenassa admitted, turning to search the table.

‘I can make ground bone meal if there isn’t any,’ Casil signed, before turning back to search.

Miraak simply nodded and turned to check some of the other shelves. 

“How many shards do we need?” Jenassa asked, collecting some in her hand from their pile on the table.

“I don’t know. Just bring as many as you can find I guess,” Serana said.

“A handful may suffice…” Miraak interjected, reaching up to take down a container on one of the shelves. He turned to hand it to Serana. “The purified void salt.”

Serana set the journal aside on one of the tables, taking the void salt. She glanced to Casil, who was sticking her fingers into different containers until at last one seemed to meet her criteria. She hurried over to give it to Serana. “Perfect. Thank the Divines my mother left everything,” she said with a sigh of relief, carefully taking the containers over to a vessel that lay at the top of one of the staircases. “This must be where they go.” She dumped the powders in, waving a hand at the dust that wafted up from them. Jenassa handed her a handful of the fragments, which she dropped into the bowl with a soft thud. 

The other three gathered below the vessel, looking up to Serana as she double checked with the journal before glancing to them. “Then the rest is up to me, huh?” She took a deep breath. “Are you ready to go? I’m not entirely sure what this thing is going to do when I add my blood?”

“What… exactly is the Soul Cairn?” Jenassa asked, stiffly looking to the dragonborn.

“The Soul Cairn is one of the many planes of Oblivion, ruled by the Ideal Masters. Those who have their souls trapped into a soul gem are sent there for all of eternity,” Miraak explained grimly, folding his arms again. 

Jenassa swallowed. “I’m not sure if I like the sound of that.”

Miraak snorted. “We don’t have a choice it seems.”

Casil shifted, glancing to the ground. Jenassa caught Casil’s unease. “Have you heard of this place before, Casil?”

Casil threw Jenassa a glance, but Miraak spoke up before she could. “She’s a necromancer. The Ideal Masters are known for making deals with necromancers.” Miraak turned his head to look at Casil. Casil didn’t make any response, and only looked to Serana.

Serana was quiet, trying to interpret the suddenly very empty look Casil had. She saw the tenseness in Casil’s jaw, and a look that reminded her of a cornered dog. Suddenly though, Casil raised her hands. ‘Can I ask you something first?’

Serana blinked. “Of course. What is it?”

‘What will we do if we find your mother?’

Serana furrowed her brow at the question, not fully sure if the bosmer was trying to change the subject or honestly curious. Probably both. Serana looked down at the bowl in front of her, fingers resting on the cold metal. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing since we got here. She… seemed very convicted, about what she did to my father. I just… went along with her. I never thought of the cost. She used to seem so happy before we heard the prophecy, but after that it all… changed. She became a different person. They both did.” Serana gave a hard sigh, causing some of the powder in the vessel to stir. She gave Casil a hard look of thought. “Nobody’s bothered to ask me, honestly. So I guess… I haven’t… really thought too hard about it.”

Casil gave a short nod of her head. ‘You need to be more ready than we do, I think.’

The reply surprised all around, though none made any movement to show it.

“Thank you, Casil,” Serana said, glancing down as she pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “It… means a lot.” She took another deep breath, steeling herself. “I’m ready. If you are ready,  then let’s do this.”

Casil glanced to Miraak and Jenassa. ‘I’m ready,’ she signed.

Jenassa nodded in agreement, looking to Serana. “As am I.”

Casil’s glanced moved to Miraak. She could see him studying her behind his mask, before he nodded as well. “The sooner, the better.”

Serana picked up a knife, clearly uneasy. She gave a moment of hesitation, before carefully cutting her hand with a sharp inhale of pain. Blood oozed out of the gash and dropped onto the ingredients below. The soul gem fragments seemed to shimmer, before the ground behind the other three rumbled. They stepped away from it as the stone suddenly began to spin, before sinking into a portal of flashing pinks, purples and blues. Wind whirled up from the portal as the stone formed steps that sunk into the blinding portal below, causing papers on the desks  to shift.

Casil took a deep breath, before stepping forward towards the portal. The moment her foot landed on one of the steps, searing pain shot through it with the feeling of extreme nausea. Casil staggered back with a sharp inhale of pain, eyes wide in surprise. Miraak caught her, holding her carefully as she caught her breath.

“Are you alright?” Serana asked quickly, leaning over the railing above Casil.

‘It  _ hurts, _ ’ she signed quickly, looking in bewilderment at the portal.

“It may be because we are still alive,” Miaak grumbled, glancing to the portal. 

Casil winced and pulled up her pant leg. There was no visible marks, but it felt like she’d put it in fire.

“So now what? If we can’t enter it…”

“I think… we have two choices then,” Serana said, gripping the edge of the railing tightly. The other three glanced up to her. “I… I could turn you into a vampire,” she said slowly. “Or I could… try to soul trap part of your soul. You’ll be weaker there, I think… but it shouldn’t…  _ hurt  _ you here or kill you. It might be enough to let you in. We might be able to get those parts back when we get in there, but i’m not fully sure.”

Casil could feel Miraak tense, and the options made her purse her lips tightly. She glanced to the other two. ‘You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.’ Casil signed after a moment of thought.

Jenassa glanced at the ground, before backing away. “I’m sorry. I can’t take either of those options,” she said quietly. 

Serana shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I understand. It’s… not ideal. I’m sorry it’s come to this,” she said with a sigh. “It’s… not a small risk or change.”

‘Neither do you, Miraak,’ Casil signed, glancing to his emotionless mask.

Miraak grunted. “Do you think I would let you go in there alone?”

‘I wouldn’t be. Serana is going with me, i’d imagine.’

Serana nodded. “Of course. We’re going to find my mother, after all.”

“Doesn’t change my statement,” he said, tightening his grip on her arms.

Casil frowned, before nodding. She looked to Serana. ‘Soul trap me. I... I can’t be a vampire.’

“Are you sure?” Serana asked, a frown tugging at her own face. “I’m willing to do it, but you need to be sure. You’ll still be mortal and alive, but you’ll be weakened when we get in there.”

Casil nodded. ‘I’m sure. I feel like being a vampire would be worse,’ she signed, grimacing. ‘No offence, of course.’

Serana shook her head. “None taken. I understand,” she said with a heavy sigh. She glanced to Miraak. “I assume your choice is the same.”

He nodded his head.

Serana whetted her lower lip, before turning to grab a pair of black soul gems off of one of the tables. “I know this is difficult. I hope you trust me,” she said, looking more at Miraak then at Casil. “I’d never do anything that could hurt you,” she added, shifting her gaze to Casil.

Casil swallowed hard, gripping her robe tightly in one of her hands. ‘I trust you.’ She glanced to Jenassa. ‘Will you be alright here while we’re gone?’

Jenassa nodded, making her way over to the door. She found a chain to close the door, letting it rumble shut again before she spoke. “I’ll keep guard here. Truly, i’m sorry,” she said, bowing her head.

“It’s fine, Jenassa. Really. This isn’t a little problem,” Serana spoke, giving the dunmer a reassuring smile. “If anything, i’ll feel better about having someone on this side of the portal if something happens.”

Jenassa sighed, nodding again before she sat down on the edge of one of the chairs.

Serana shifted her gaze to the two dragonborns again. She motioned for Casil to step forward, but to her surprise Miraak did instead. She blinked, tilting her head.

“I’d rather you make a mistake on me,” he muttered, folding his arms.

Casil seemed as surprised as Serana was, but the vampire nodded. She set one soul gem aside, before closing her eyes to concentrate. “Alright. Let’s not waste anymore time. I promise to make this as painless as possible… hold still.” She focused, brow furrowing as she chanted under her breath. The gem began to glow a malevolent purple color, before she reached out to touch Miraak. The dragonborn hissed in pain as the glowing inside of the gem surged, and Casil could feel the brief tugging of a dragon soul as part of it passed into the black soul gem. Finally it stopped, and Serana opened her eyes again. “Well, you look alive to me still,” she said, trying to chuckle.

Miraak stepped back, rubbing where Serana had touched him. “Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, looking to Casil. “I’d like all of my soul back as soon as possible.”

Casil glanced to him, before stepping up to Serana. She set Miraak’s soul gem down, before grabbing the other. “Sorry, Casil,” Serana said apologetically, before repeating the process. 

Casil inhaled sharply as Serana touched her, feeling a dizzying sucking feeling. Her energy felt like it was being sapped rapidly, and the world around her spun for a moment as a sharp pain flooded her senses. She tried her best not to move, until at last it stopped. Serana carefully let go, and Casil stepped back to try to ground herself again. She felt Miraak hold her shoulders, and his proximity seemed to help. She tried to focus on the tugging feeling she had around him, though now it felt ever so slightly less than it normally did. She frowned at that, but the sound of Serana walking passed her caused her to open her eyes.

“Are you alright?” Serana asked, worry plastered to her face.

Casil nodded, rubbing her arm. ‘We ready to go then?’

Serana looked the two dragonborn over, before nodding. “We should be. When you are.”

Casil glanced to Miraak. He made no objection, so she nodded.

“Be careful then,” Jenassa said from where she sat, guilt laden in her voice.

Serana looked over her shoulder. “We will be. You too. Lay low while we’re gone.”

Jenassa chuckled, leaning back. “I don’t plan on stirring up any problems while you’re gone.”

Serana gave the dunmer a playful smile before turning back to the portal. She held out the black soul gems over the whirling madness below. “Ideal Masters, take these offerings,” she spoke, before letting the crystals drop into the portal below. The disappeared with flashes of light, and Serana took a few steps into the portal before looking back to the dragonborns. “Well, let’s see if this worked.”

Casil gripped Miraak’s sleeve, before carefully stepping onto the first step again. Her breath hitched in anticipation for the pain to return, but this time it didn’t. The bosmer relaxed, before loosening her grip on his sleeve to descend further. Miraak followed, nodding his head to Serana.

“Lead the way then. Let us not waste time.”

Serana gave them her best reassuring smile, before she descended into the portal with a bright flash. 

Casil swallowed hard again, taking a deep breath. She gave Miraak a long look, before she took the plunge herself.


	67. LXVII. Dig Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna ride this inspiration before it dies screams.

The world whirled around Casil as she stepped down into the portal, and the moment she stepped out on the other side she was met with a wall of frigid air, disorienting nausea, and severe fatigue. She hardly made it down the first few steps on the other side before collapsing to her knees, clenching her eyes shut as her head felt like it was about to implode.

 

“ _ So she’s the dragonborn…” _

_ “...Still lives…” _

_ “Here for answers…?”  _

_ “...No…” _

Casil dug her nails into her head, inhaling sharply as everything seemed to collapse around her. Her body felt sluggish, sore, and empty. There was a loud ringing in her ears, and she still felt like she was violently moving. 

 

“ _ You’ve come to break someone out…” _

_ “...Pity…” _

_ “...Could show you so much more…” _

_ “...Could teach you so much more…” _

 

Miraak was not any better. He had not considered how he might react to changing planes again so soon, after he had already struggled to re-anchor to Nirn. His body felt like he was being stabbed with hot needles on every inch of skin, his lungs felt like they were full of water, and his head felt like it was slowly being crushed in a vicegrip. The old dragonborn had fallen shorter than Casil had on the steps, gripping his own head as pain assaulted him. He could feel the  _ gap  _ where part of his soul had been, but had been torn out of him. It still existed, somewhere on this plane, but his awareness of the empty void was  _ agonizing.  _ His body lurched as pain wracked through him, and he reached up to tear his mask away to get a gulp of cold air. He felt like he was being torn in half, split between the Soul Cairn and Nirn. Despite his best efforts, the man couldn’t hold back the cry of agony that rolled from his lips.

 

“ _ The First…” _

_ “...did not think you lived…” _

_ “Interesting…” _

 

Serana was mortified. “Casil? Miraak?” She quickly moved to Casil’s side first, gripping the girl’s shoulders. Casil folded in on herself more, grinding her teeth sharply as her body gave another shudder. Had she messed up? Had the spell or the soul gems not actually worked how she wanted to…? Fear raced into her head as she tried to cradle the poor bosmer against her chest, looking to Miraak with worry. The nord seemed worse for wear, but Serana had to admit that she cared about Casil more. If anything, he’d get through it on his own. 

Miraak struggled to shut the voices out of his head first. They weren’t wanted, or needed. He knew who they were, and he was irritated at himself for letting them in. A slip admittedly, thanks to the unexpected pain, but a slip nonetheless. He felt himself rubber band between the Soul Cairn, Nirn, and Apocrypha for a few moments, before he focused on grounding himself to the current plane. It wasn’t ideal, and he wasn’t sure how long he could manage like that, but it would have to do for now. The worst of the pain subsided, leaving him feeling lethargic and weak. Serana had warned as much, but perhaps he had been too arrogant to really realize how much that would be affecting him. The sound of Serana’s concerned voice broke through the muffled noises around him, and he managed pull a hand away from his head to hold it up to the vampire. “I’m fine,” he managed to grunt. “Focus on her.”

As she expected, Miraak managed to deal with it on his own. Serana turned her attention to Casil, brushing some hair out of the woman’s face. “Casil. Listen to me. I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.” She tightened her hug on the dragonborn, gently rocking her.

Casil made a sort of whimper, shaking her head a few times as the world seemed to shift around her. Finally the spinning slowed, and Casil was left simply feeling like she hadn’t slept in a few days. 

 

“ _ Welcome to the Soul Cairn…” _

_ “We will be watching…” _

_ “How interesting…” _

 

Casil opened her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light around her. She squinted up at Serana, before turning to look at the world around them.

A vast expanse of darkness stretched out before them, punctuated by glowing rifts and dark, towering spires topped with glowing masses. The sky was pitch black, accented by glowing purple that shifted like a unnatural aurora or clouds. Mangled trees, heaps of bones, and gravestones scattered the ground, and the faint ethereal forms of ghosts lingered in groups amongst the shadows. Lightning arced overhead, creating stark white flashes that made eerie shadows form around objects. Thunder rumbled only on occasion, and other then that the Soul Cairn was eerily silent.

“Are you alright, Casil?”

The bosmer turned to look again at the vampire, furrowing her brow as she collected her thoughts. ‘I think so,’ she signed slowly, though her arms felt like they were made of lead, or maybe simply did not have bones anymore. ‘

Serana let out a sigh of relief, loosening her grip. “I got worried. How are you feeling?”

‘Awful,’ Casil signed, before bringing her hands up to slowly rub her face. She really had underestimated how coming here would make her feel. Apocrypha really hadn’t been that bad, but that had been a different deal. She’d been foolish to assume they’d be similar.

Miraak shifted, slowly moving himself to sit near Casil and Serana. “We need to get moving as soon as we can,” he said, carefully putting his mask back on.

Serana glanced to him. “Are you feeling any better?” 

The priest shot her a glare, though his mask covered it now. “As good as I will be. The sooner we get this done, the better.” 

Casil gave the two a worried look, before slowly trying to stand. Her legs felt like noodles, and it took her a few tries to steady herself and look around. ‘Do we know where we’re heading…?’ The fields looked like they continued on and on. There seemed to be a long stretch of dark walls, but Casil doubted that was the end of things. 

Serana stood as well, settling her hands on her hips as she scanned the darkness that awaited them at the bottom of the stairs. The portal had dropped them off a good fifteen feet off the ground, and the stairs created on the other side meandered down until they hit the ground. “I… don’t know,” she admitted.

Miraak did not stand yet. “We cannot spend too long here. It will be too dangerous for Casil and I.”

Casil furrowed her brow at Miraak. ‘What will happen if we do?’

He adjusted one of his gloves, before finally pushing himself to his feet. “We get lost here, or worse.”

He didn’t offer further explanation, but it was enough to make Casil want to hurry. Casil slowly began to make her way down the stairs, holding her arms out to her sides to make sure she didn’t fall. She felt noticeably weaker, and it was clear even Miraak was struggling with the change.

“We should start looking around those dark buildings. I can’t imagine she’d be just… out here,” Serana suggested, making sure the two dragonborn made it down the stairs.

Casil nodded in agreement. ‘Let’s… be careful though. I don’t know how well we’ll handle in a fight,’ she signed, a frown pulling at her lips.

“Sounds like a plan to me. I’d rather not stir up trouble here anyways,” Serana replied, before moving to head down the path. 

A trodden dirt path wove its way between various landmarks, scattered with bones and a strange, paper-like plant that grew up at the bases of headstones and other sedentary objects. Glowing orbs wove in and out of objects, leaving a soft hissing and crackling as they passed the uneasy party. Casil tried not to look at the ghostly faces of souls who lurked behind pillars and stones. She noted a few of the souls seemed to be following them, while most others ignored them altogether. 

There was a nagging feeling that if she paid too much attention to them, she’d recognize one.

 

“ _ No need for pity….” _

_ “...Life is but a burden…” _

_ “The only true freedom is in undeath…” _

_ “Hardly a need for pity…” _

 

Casil pushed the voices aside in her head, wearily watching one of the glowing orbs slowly drift across the path.

“This place is much creepier then I thought,” Serana muttered, trying to break the silence between them. It was quiet enough as it was.

“Few see this place and can return to tell about it,” Miraak said, staying close to Casil’s side. “Not even I know fully what to expect here.”

‘Hopefully this path leads to where your mother is,’ Casil signed, glancing to Serana. ‘This place looks far too big to check every nook and cranny.’

Serana nodded in agreement. “I imagine it does, or leads to some sort of clue. I don’t know why there’d be a path from that spot if there wasn’t… unless that portal can lead in from multiple places.”

Casil didn’t like that idea. ‘Let’s pretend it’s only your mother’s,’ she signed, trying to dismiss the ideas of the portal closing on them, or that it may not lead to anywhere useful.

The three wandered down the path for what felt like an eternity. Casil noted towers where lightning struck repeatedly on tall rods, strange clusters of stones that reminded her of shrines, and even a handful of dragon bones.

‘Do you think this is where dragon souls go when we eat them?’ Casil asked as they passed by the remains of an ancient dragon, half lost to the ash-like sands of the plane.

Miraak was silent for a moment. “I do not know,” he replied finally as the skull disappeared behind a handful of headstones. 

Casil slowed, before finding a fallen pillar to sit down on it. ‘I need to take a break,’ she signed, resting her arms on her knees when she was done. She felt like she’d been hiking uphill for hours, even if they’d only been walking on a fairly flat surface for probably a fraction of the time she thought. Serana threw her a worried look, turning to stand near the pillar with her arms folded. 

“This is really wearing on you, huh?”

Casil nodded, glancing at the ground. Miraak moved to sit by her, and though he didn’t say it she could tell he needed the rest too. The priest looked around, scanning their surroundings. He could still see the portal in the distance, but he was worried they’d lose sight of it soon. Without the glowing beacon in the sky, even Miraak wasn’t sure if they’d be able to find their way back. The path had split several times along the way, and try as he might none of the landmarks they passed seemed to stick in his mind.

  
  


“ _ You could stay….” _

_ “So much we could teach you…” _

_ “Not like him…” _

_ “Oh no, not at all…” _

 

The voices were silenced as quickly as they started. Miraak glanced to Serana and Casil. If the three of them weren’t careful, they would never get back out. And the idea of being trapped on another Oblivion plane made Miraak’s stomach turn. His attention turned to several dark moving objects lurking in some stones down the path.

“We are being watched,” he warned, motioning ahead of them.

Casil and Jenassa turned to see what he was talking about. Skeletal figures, made of black bones with eerie white eyes watched them, black mist coiling out of their chest cavity. Casil shifted to stand, but as she tried to light fire around her hands the spell quickly sputtered out. The wood elf grimaced, feeling an emptiness where her magic would have been. She must have used too much before, and with a piece of her soul missing she simply did not have enough to cast. She cursed at herself, throwing the other two a apologetic look before sitting back down.

“Do not push yourself,” Miraak warned, standing instead. “You will hurt yourself if you’re not careful.”

Casil pouted at him, but she did not have the energy to argue or prove him wrong.

Miraak drew his sword, but it felt much heavier in his hands then he expected. He could hardly find the strength to lift it properly with one hand, and with reluctance he decided to wield it with both hands.

Serana stepped in front of him. “I’ll deal with it. Don’t worry about it,” she said with a nod. “Just be here for backup if I need it,” she added, throwing Miraak a grin.

“Don’t get in over your head,” he grunted, but he didn’t argue.

Serana allowed electricity to crackle between her fingers as she cautiously walked down the path. The bonemen chattered their teeth, emerging to move towards Serana. She unleashed the lightning, arcing it between a few of the skeletons. They staggered, a few melting into a puddle of black ooze. An arrow whizzed past Serana, narrowly missing her shoulder by a few inches. She whirled to find who shot at her, but another lightning bolt launched past her to destroy the assailant. Miraak leaned on his sword, electricity jumping around his free hand. Serana rolled her eyes, arcing lightning between the remaining bonemen.

“Coast is clear. We should get going before more come,” she glanced to Casil. “If… you’re ready, of course.”

Casil pushed herself up slowly, grimacing. ‘I think I can keep going. I just feel…  _ exhausted. _ ’

Miraak sheathed his sword, offering a hand to Casil. “Try to focus on the task ahead,” he said, making sure she was supported on him before they continued to walk.

Casil nodded, leaning on Miraak. She hated feeling so slow and weak, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t make herself feel better. She tried to focus on the feeling of Miraak’s robe and the still gentle tug of his soul, squinting at the dusty path ahead of them.

 

_ “Tired yet…?” _

_ “You think you can get your soul back…?” _

_ “You don’t want to be here…” _

_ “You want to back…” _

_ “Not a dragonborn…” _

_ “A necromancer…” _

_ “You’re here… why leave…?” _

_ “You could learn so much…” _

_ “Leave them… they care little for you…” _

_ “You could be powerful…” _

_ “Life is suffering…” _

_ “You could be more…” _

_ “You know what we can offer you…” _

_ “Casil…” _

 

Miraak watched Casil’s focus falter on the path ahead of them. She seemed to be spacing out, but Miraak knew what went on in her head. “Casil.”

The woman didn’t respond, gaze unfocused.

 

“ _ All the power you’d want…” _

_ “More than that daedric prince tried to offer you…” _

_ “True power…” _

_ “Things you care about…” _

 

“Casil.” Miraak stopped her, reaching to gently hold her face in one of his hands. “Casil. Focus.”

Casil hesitated, before shaking her head. She reached up to rub her eyes, grimacing. ‘Sorry. Just. Thinking.’

“You know what they’re saying is lies, Casil.”

Casil flicked her eyes to his mask, breath hitching. Serana paused, glancing back. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked, frowning.

Miraak let go of her face, nodding to Serana. “She is tired. But we do not have time to slow down,” he said, starting to walk again.

Casil was pulled with him, but she quickly return to walking at his side. He was right though. She knew they were just trying to wrap her back into things again, and if she dared to listen to them she wouldn’t ever escape. Serana gave them a worried look, before continuing ahead. Casil tilted her head up at Miraak, awaiting an answer. The man chuckled lowly.

“Your unease is obvious,” he said lowly. “Besides… it’s to be  _ expected  _ of a necromancer such as yourself.”

Casil frowned, before looking ahead. If Miraak wanted to grill her about it later, she expected that he’d ask when things weren’t as dire. She needed to focus on their task, like she said. Keep her mind focused, and not let it wander.

Where they might find it.

 

At last, the path lead up to one of the large almost castle-like buildings that scattered the expanse of the Soul Cairn. Casil noticed a soft glow from its entry, before Serana suddenly started to pick up her pace. Casil tugged on the other’s dragonborn’s sleeve, motioning to Serana as she picked up into a jog.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, glancing behind them.

Serana did not respond. Her jog turned into a run. “Mother?”

Casil could make out a woman behind a glowing barrier turn. She seemed surprised, and she walked to the edge of the barrier. “Serana…? Is that really you?”

A smile grew on Serana’s face. She slowed at the barrier, looking it over before reaching out a hand. It touched the magical wall like a pane of glass, and Serana’s smile turned to a frown. She nodded though. “Yes, it is. We finally found you.”

The woman frowned, glancing to the pair of dragonborns as they walked up the stairs behind Serana. “We…?”

Serana turned to face Casil and Miraak. “Mother, this is Casil and Miraak. Casil, Miraak, this is my mother, Valerica.”

Valerica looked the two over, eyes wide. “A… dragon priest… ? How many years has it been…? Are they both like us?” She asked, looking to Serana.

Serana pursed her lips, before shaking her head. “No. They’re both mortals. Dragonborn, but mortal.”

Valerica eyed the two. “So you must have soul trapped them to get in here.”

Serana nodded. “Just like you taught me.”

The older vampire gave Serana a smile, before stepping back from the wall. Casil noted the Elder Scroll on her back. That must have been the one they were looking for. “How did you two meet my daughter?”

“We found her in the Crypt, at the request of the Dawnguard,” Miraak spoke, moving to lean against a pillar. Casil sat down near him, clearly exhausted.

Valerica’s smile faltered. “Vampire hunters…? Have you been using her to hunt me down?” 

Casil looked at her in surprise, before shaking her head. ‘We want to keep her safe and to help her,’ she signed. 

Valerica raised a brow, before looking to Miraak expectantly for a translation.

“We mean her no harm. We are here to assist,” Miraak answered. “We are here for the Elder Scroll.”

Valerica glanced to Serana, folding her own arms. “So. The Elder Scrolls are what you care about. The Scrolls are merely a means to an end. They are hardly the most important part of the prophecy. The key to the Tyranny of the Sun is Serana herself,” Valerica said.

Serana frowned, as did Casil. “What do you mean?” Serana asked.

Valerica sighed, shifting her weight. “When I fled Castle Volkihar, I fled with two Elder Scrolls. The scroll I presume you found with Serana speaks of Auriel and his arcane weapon, Auriel’s Bow. The second scrolls declares that ‘The Blood of Coldharbour’s Daughter will Blind the eye of the Dragon.’”

Casil hesitated, looking at Serana. ‘And… you are…’

Serana pursed her lips tightly. “A Daughter of Coldharbour... ? Yeah,” she shifted herself. “We… my mother and I, we used to be human. We were devout followers of Lord Molag Bal. As tradition, we were offered to Molag Bal on his summoning day… and… since we survived the ordeal, we became pure-blooded vampires.”

Casil swallowed. That would explain a lot. 

“So the Tyranny of the Sun requires Serana’s blood?” Miraak spoke.

The older vampire looked the priest over. “Now you’re beginning to see why I wanted to protect Serana, and why I’ve kept the other Elder Scroll as far from her as possible.”

Miraak glanced to Casil as she raised her hands, before repeating her question. “So Harkon means to kill her?”

The question made Serana give her mother a uneasy stare. Valerica sighed. “If Harkon obtained Auriel’s Bow and Serana’s blood was used to taint the weapon, the Tyranny of the Sun would be complete,” she explained bitterly. “In his eyes, she’d be dying for the good of all vampires.”

Serana turned for a minute, tense. Casil carefully pushed herself to the feet, swaying until Miraak straightened her out. The bosmer walked over to stand near the vampire, hoping to offer her some comfort. She picked out her journal from her bag, writing on a blank page before holding it up for all to read. ‘I won’t let that happen.’

“And how exactly do you plan on stopping him?” Valerica asked. It wasn’t condescending to Casil’s surprise. She seemed genuinely curious.

Casil shrugged. ‘I’ll kill Harkon.’ The answer seemed obvious to her.

“If you believe that, then you’re a bigger fool than I had originally suspected,” Valerica replied sharply. Casil frowned. “Don’t you think I weighed that option before I enacted my plans?”

Casil looked to Miraak for some sort of defense, though she expected him to berate her plan.

Miraak weighed the options and possible replied. It was a stupid plan, he would not lie with Valerica on that. He did not  _ want  _ to try to face the vampire lord, especially not with Casil in tow. But he wasn’t sure how many other options they had. The dragon priest shifted, reaching up to scratch his neck in thought. “We have slain Alduin. Your husband will be no different.”

Valerica’s eyes widened a bit. “...Alduin has been slain? Truly?”

The three of them nodded. “He was slain before I woke up again. Like I said… they’re dragonborn. They’re strong and trustworthy people,” Serana said once she found her voice, giving Casil a look of thanks.

Valerica took a deep breath, looking Casil and Miraak over. “You are just using her. You care nothing for Serana or her plight. You’re here because we’re abominations in your mind. Evil creatures that need to be destroyed.”

Anger flashed on Serana’s face. “That isn’t true, mother. They really do wish to help me. They’ve put themselves in a lot of danger to keep me safe and to help solve this. Please, mother. We need your help to stop this.”

Valerica closed her arms, turning to pace back towards the back of the small room she’d been out in when they arrived. Finally she turned to look at them. “Alright. Alright,” she said with a sigh, trying to relax.

Casil relaxed as well, relieved that Valerica finally agreed to help. ‘I imagine you two need some time to catch up. Can we rest here?’

Serana glanced to Miraak. The nord sighed in resignation. “Shortly. We cannot waste time. The longer we stay here, the more danger we will be in,” he said.

Casil nodded. ‘A nap will be fine then.’ She felt like she hadn’t slept in weeks. They had rested up before heading out to the castle, but they’d spent all night trying to get through the castle, only to have a portion of their soul to be ripped out at the end. Casil was struggling to keep her eyes open or to keep standing. 

“You should be safe near here. I will keep watch for you while you rest,” Valerica said, folding her hands.

Miraak nodded, slowly nudging Casil to an alcove in the wall. Serana watched them, before turning back to her mother. She sat down on the ground, and her mother did the same. Miraak could hear the two quietly exchange words as he and Casil settled down on the cold stone ground. He regretted not having proper sleeping gear, but at the same time if they’d brought anything more than what they already had they wouldn’t have made it this far. He hated to admit it, but he needed the rest too. He still felt like part of him was trying to jump out of his body, and his armor felt much heavier than it usually was. 

Casil took her bag off her shoulder, absent-mindedly rearranging the contents to try to make it a better pillow before she unceremoniously flopped down against it. Miraak simply sat next to her, pulling his mask off before he set it aside.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, voice low.

Casil glanced up at him from where she lay, nodding slightly. ‘I just feel so tired. And weak.’

“And they won’t leave you alone.”

Casil pulled her cloak around her tighter, shifting her gaze to the ground next to her face. She replied with another nod.

Miraak hummed. “What did you ask them for?”

Casil didn’t reply, and instead turned so her back faced him. Not up for taking her silence as a answer, the nord reached over and rolled her back over. Casil glared, folding her arms across her chest. ‘What did you ask Mora for?’ She signed.

“Power. A shout to make man and dragon my servants,” he replied simply. “I thought that was obvious.”

Casil sighed, trying to adjust her head against the bag. ‘Why does it matter.’

“I want to know incase you decide to be a fool, and listen to them,” he said. Casil’s averted gaze made him finally move to lay down next to her. To Casil’s surprise, he pulled her up to his chest. “I do not want to lose you,” he muttered against her temple, closing his eyes. 

Slowly she relaxed, fumbling with the edge of his robe for a moment before she slowly sat up to speak. ‘I wanted to learn how to create better skeletons.’

Miraak blinked. “That… can’t  _ possibly  _ be all,” Miraak said incredulously. 

Casil frumped at him. ‘And I may have asked how to extend my life. A little bit.’

Miraak rolled his eyes. “And what did you have to give them.”

She shrugged. ‘Souls. Lots of them. No, mine was not one of them. I know better.’

The man seemed to relax a bit. “I take it they have not left you alone then since we entered here.”

Casil shrugged again. ‘I’ve been trying to ignore them.’

“Good,” he said with a sigh. He shifted, taking off his robe before pulling Casil close again. He threw the robe over them like a blanket, resting his head against the stone. “Now rest up. We need to get out of here as soon as we can.”

Casil nodded, slowly snuggling against his side. She closed her eyes as well, taking a deep breath. She just had to ignore them and get back as much energy as she could. She’d need it.

 

[Kriaan. Hi kriaan mu.](-)

Whispering voices. The grasping forms of mangled, skinless bodies. 

_ Murder. Monster. Villain.  _

Man. Beast. Dragon. 

They were grabbing for him. All there, so close, hands and claws, brushing just against his scales. Every face became painfully familiar. 

_ Dahmaan. Remember us. We remember you. _

Nahlotfel backed up, wings spread in panic. 

_[Hi horvutah mu. Het, mahfaeraak.](-) _ _ No escape. Only suffering.  _

Hands and claws reached up, grasping to pull him down with them. Fire did not stop the souls of the damnned from reaching him, their frigid touches causing his scales to rattle. 

_ We won’t let you leave. [Hi drey daar wah mu.](-) _

He felt like he was drowning. Cold claws gripped at his face. Voice whispered in his head, echoing in the dark void. Like he was sinking in the Sea of Ghosts. There was no escaping them. They were everywhere. The dragon coiled, heart pounding in his chest.

_[Kriivah. Hi drun dinok hin zeymah. Dov ahrk jul](-).  _ _ You killed all of us.  A monster. _

The pressure returned to his head, and he felt like he might be crushed in its cold grip.

 

“ _ See? Weak.” _

_ “Could be so much more…” _

_ “Still mortal, still  _ weak.”

_ “A waste of unlocked potential.” _

_ “A shame.” _

_ “...Could have been great…” _

_ “So late for regrets…” _

_ “Did you regret it then…?” _

_ “No… you did not…” _

_ “Why regret it now?” _

_ “Do you fancy yourself a monster?” _

_ “Do you see yourself a monster?” _

_ “A fragile mortal.” _

_ “Something so powerful, trapped in a living shell.” _

_ “What a waste. What a shame.” _

_ “Trying to be something you are not…” _

_ “Humorous.” _

_ “She fancies herself a hero.” _

_ “Misguided.” _

_ “Why keep pretending that you are meant to save people?” _

_ “Necromancer, trader of souls?” _

_ “Come back to where you belong.” _

_ “So much more that you can learn…” _

_ “So much more that you could do…” _

 

_ Kriid. Krivaan. Follower of the betrayer. Bane of man and dragon. Liar. False hero. _

Suffocating. Crushing. Being trapped in a cave. Sinking below the waves. Like when Mora caught him. Under the waves. Drowning. Weakening. World spinning.

 

[ “ _ Nahlotfel. Alok. Nust tinvaak nil rotte. _ _ ” _ ](-)

 

Loniivahrin. Where? Somewhere. Away. But close. 

 

[Zu’u los sunvaar.](-)

 

[ _ “Nahlotfel, nust tinvaak nil rotte. Hi pruzaan. Alok. _ _ ” _ ](-)

 

Suffocating. Voices. Grasping hands. Cold.

  
“ _Nahlotfel. Nahlotfel. Casil._ Casil…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kriaan. Hi kriaan mu. - Killer. You killed us.
> 
> Hi horvutah mu. Het, mahfaeraak. - You trapped us. Here, forever.
> 
> Hi drey daar wah mu. - You did this to us.
> 
> Kriivah. Hi drun dinok hin zeymah.Dov ahrk jul. - Murderer. You bring death to your kin. Dragon and man.
> 
> “Nahlotfel. Alok. Nust tinvaak nil rotte.” - Rise. They speak empty words.
> 
> Zu’u los sunvaar. - I am a monster.
> 
> “Nahlotfel, nust tinvaak nil rotte. Hi pruzaan. Alok.” - They speak empty words. You are better. Rise.


	68. LXVIII. Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like 7 months after the last chapter was posted, here's another one whoops. I stopped this chapter in the middle of thought and could not for the life of me remember where I was going with it, and then College Happened. But I am trying to pick it back up this term. I finally figured out the approximate number of chapters left too- it could vary, but this is at least what i'm aiming for!  
> Bless everyone who has read this, left comments on it, kudos, etc. It makes me so happy :"T

Casil opened her eyes with a jolt. A bolt of lightning flashed overhead, arcing to one of the lightning rods on a neighboring tower. She felt Miraak shifted against her, tilted her face to look at him.

“Casil. Are you okay?”

Casil closed her eyes again for a moment, before nodding. She sat up, rubbing her face. She tilted her head towards him, frowning.

“You were having a nightmare,” he said, sitting up with her. He reached out, taking her face in his hands. He studied her face for a moment, before leaving a peck on her forehead. “Are you ready to get up?”

Casil held up a hand for a moment, rubbing her face again. She shouldn’t have expected anything but a nightmare in this place. ‘Sorry if I woke you up,’ Casil signed, leaning against Miraak for a moment.

He shook his head. “We need to get up anyways.” He pulled his robe off of her, pulling it back on. Casil picked up her bag, carefully pushing herself to the feet. She still felt weak, but if nothing else she was feeling rested. She waited for Miraak to put his mask back on, before moving to meet back up with Serana.

The vampire was leaning against the force field that separated her from her mother. Valerica was working on some sort of potion at the lab station a few feet back, absorbed in her work. Serana glanced over to the two dragonborn as they rounded the corner, a smile creeping on her features. “Feeling any better?” 

Casil nodded. ‘As much as I think I will here.’

Miraak nodded in agreement. “We should get moving. I assume you have figured out what to do next.”

Valencia turned, setting aside her mortar and pestle before facing the party. “Yes. These barriers are being held up by several individuals known as the Boneyard Keepers. I’ve given Serana a map of where I believe they’re located,” she said, motioning to her daughter. 

Serana flashed the dragonborns the map. “They’re more than likely in some of the taller towers, so they shouldn’t be hard  to find.”

“While you may be capable warriors,” Valencia continued, looking Casil and Miraak over, “I must warn you that they will not be easy to kill. Additionally, there is a dragon by the name of Durnehviir who watches over them. If he catches that you’re destroying them, he may come to stop you.”

Casil seemed surprised at this. She looked to Miraak, expecting some sort of information on the dragon.

“I do not know of such a name,” Miraak said, noticing Casil’s expectant look.

Serana frowned. “Damn. Well, I can’t imagine he’ll be any harder than any of the other dragons you’ve fought.”

‘We’ve just been in much better shape fighting them,’ Casil signed with a huff. 

“I’m sure we’ll get it figured out,” Serana said, standing. “We’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?”

“I’ve been in worse positions,” Miraak grunted. 

Casil shot him a look, though she didn’t doubt it. ‘Should we go then?’

Serana nodded, looking to her mother. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Valerica nodded her head, leaning against the edge of her alchemy lab. “Be safe, my daughter.”

Serana gave her a slight smile. “Don’t worry about me. We’ll be fine.” She checked the  map one more time, before motioning for the dragonborn to follow.

“How far apart are these Keepers?” Miraak questioned after they got a few feet from Valerica’s prison.

“Fairly,” she held up the map for him to see. It was crude, copied from a drawing her mother had done and shown her through the barrier, but it gave them enough landmarks to work off of. “It’s… going to be a bit of walking. Hopefully you two have the energy for it.”

Casil peered at the map, before making a face. ‘There’s no faster way?’

Serana shook her head. “Unless one of you two have a plan.”

Casil went to shake her head, before pausing. She slowed down in her walking, furrowing her brow suddenly. Serana and Miraak stopped, looking back to her.

“What is it?” Miraak asked, folding his arms.

Casil glanced around. ‘I might have a plan, actually.’ She scurried back towards the Boneyard’s entry. Miraak sighed and hurried after her, Serana on his heels. Valerica raised a brow as Casil scurried past her prison, watching the small woman clamber over a few of the ruins before dropping into a ditch just a little ways off of the path. Miraak slowed as he got to the top of the mound that lay above where Casil was. Below him lay the tangled skeleton of a dragon, which Casil was trying to carefully brush some ash off of.

“What… exactly are you planning to do with that?” Miraak asked slowly. She glanced up at him. 

‘I need a big soul gem. The biggest one you can find. There’s got to be one around here filled with a grand soul,’ she signed.

Serana joined Miraak on the hill, squinting at the dragon skeleton. “You aren’t going to try to-”

Casil just nodded her head rather enthusiastically. As weak as she was feeling, she at least was getting a rush of  _ excitement  _ from the prospect of trying to finally test out resurrecting a dragon skeleton.

“Do you think you even have the power to do that?” Miraak asked.

Casil shrugged. ‘Maybe with Serana’s help. We’re in the Soul Cairn though. If necromancy is going to work anywhere, it’s here.’

Miraak sighed, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “Are you  _ sure _ about this? I don’t want to be wasting time.”

Casil waved a hand. ‘Just get me a Grand Soul Gem. A filled one. There’s bound to be one around here somewhere.’

Serana glanced to Miraak, before nodding. “I’ll ask my mother where to look. She’ll know.” The vampire turned and rushed back to her mother, and Miraak reluctantly slid down to help Casil uncover the remains of the skeleton.

 

Sure enough, Serana returned to the dragonborn not much later with a full Grand Soul Gem. “Well, if nothing else this place has a lot of supplies for this,” she admitted, handing the giant crystal off to Casil when she reached the pit. “There was a chest that was just…  _ filled  _ with these things. I wish I could carry more of them,” Serana said with a sigh, folding her arms. “Maybe when this is all done, I’ll come back here just to pick some up or something.”

Casil moved to place the gem in the dragon’s chest cavity, glancing back to Serana. ‘I don’t think I ever want to come back here again… even if it is full of soul gems and useful information.’ She straightened herself out, wiping her cloak off before stepping back.

“I can’t say I blame you. I’m sorry this hasn’t been exactly a  _ pleasant  _ experience for you two,” she said with a guilty smile.

“The sooner we finish things here, the better,” Miraak growled, clearly displeased they were taking a pause to do this.

Casil shot him a glare. ‘Don’t think I can pull this off?’

“No, not particularly,” he admitted. “Especially not in these conditions. And a worry what you may be inviting here by doing this.”

Casil shook her head. ‘We’ll be fine, Miraak. Just trust me for once.’ Casil stepped to the skull of the dragon, taking a deep breath. She’d prepared what she could while Serana was running to get the gem, and now all that was left was to weave the actual spellwork. Casil closed her eyes, reaching a hand out as she began to focus on the bones below her. For a few minutes, nothing happened. Miraak shifted, ready to say something until a purple glow began to form around the skeleton. The soul gem at its center lit up, light fluctuating around it before the bones shuddered and began to rise. Ash and stone rolled off of the beast’s form, purple magic forming a sort of skin over the bones. Casil tried to maintain her focus, feeling pain streak out through her body. She was pushing it to summon this thing, but hopefully it would make up for that. She could feel something warm run down over her lip and chin, and she closed her eyes tighter as her magic expanded through the dragon.

“Casil…” Miraak began, but the bosmer shook her head. She was almost there. She just had to concentrate harder. The elf gritted her teeth, reaching to the plane around her to draw the last scrap of magicka she needed to reign in the skeletal dragon under her control.

 

“ _ Oh, now you wish our help…” _

_ “Greedy…” _

_ “Selfish.” _

_ “A dangerous game.” _

 

Casil mentally swore at the voices, straining to keep a hold of the spell. She could feel Miraak grab her shoulders. “You need to stop Casil. You’re hurting yourself,” he snapped, but she fought through the pain and shook her head. Almost there-

Finally, the magic fizzled away and Casil let out a gasp for breath. Her eyes flew open, and Miraak grabbed her before she collapsed. With a wince, she reached up to wipe her face. Her arm pulled away with a smear of blood, and she reached up again to touch her face. Blood rolled out of her nose, and she grimaced. Miraak let out a sigh of frustration, carefully settling her on the ground. 

“[Hi mey](x) _ ,”  _ he cursed under his breath. He grabbed her face, checking her eyes before he let go. “Never do that again,” he growled lowly.

Casil sniffled, wiping the blood off her face to the best of her ability. ‘I’m fine, Miraak,’ she signed. She glanced to the vampire.

Serana had her hands on her hips, not focused on her. “Well… it worked.”

Casil pushed to look around Miraak’s side. Sure enough, the skeletal dragon stood before her, bones creaking as it waited patiently for a command from its new owner. Miraak turned to look back too in surprise, loosening his grip on Casil. Casil’s eyes lit up, and she pushed past Miraak to clamber up onto the dragon’s back. The skeleton allowed it, tilting its head only slightly as it awaited commands. Despite the headache that was starting to grow in her head, she couldn’t contain her excitement. She motioned for Serana and Miraak to join her on the dragon’s back. It wasn’t comfortable, but it’d be faster than walking. Even if dragons weren’t made for walking or running.

Serana lit up as well, rushing to jump onto the dragon’s back behind Casil. “You did it!” She exclaimed gleefully, giving the bosmer a hug with a laugh. Casil seemed to giggle as well, euphoria overriding the pain and exhaustion, even if only temporary. 

Miraak balled his hands into fists, narrowing his eyes. He stepped over, pulling himself onto the beast’s back. “Let us go then.”

Casil glanced back to him past Serana, hearing tension in his voice. She frowned, but Serana’s giddiness made it hard to stay worried.

“What are you waiting for?” Serana laughed, wrapping her arms around Casil’s waist. “Let’s go! This is a much better plan for traveling this place.”

Casil felt a blush creep on her cheeks as Serana rested her head on the bosmer’s shoulder, and she quickly nodded before willing the dragon to move forward. The skeleton shuddered, before extending out its wings to move. To Casil’s surprise, the skeleton could move rather rapidly. She rarely saw dragons on the ground, and she knew they could maneuver fairly well, but she’d never seen one  _ run.  _ But sure enough, the skeleton was doing something akin to running. It was sort of a mixture between a hop and a gallop, but it was much swifter than moving on foot… rough, but swift. 

Serana laughed as they barreled down the road, holding onto Casil for support. If Casil could audibly laugh, she would be cracking up too. She gripped onto one of the skeleton’s vertebrae, hooking her feet into another one to held hold her in place.

Miraak  _ might  _ have enjoyed it if he wasn’t feeling exceptionally  _ grumpy.  _ He road behind the other two, more on the dragon’s back then its neck like Serana and Casil were. It was much harder to ride that way, but he was practiced with riding on dragons. If anything, it meant Casil couldn’t catch him brooding.

The three made it to the first tower in no time. It towered up into the dark sky, and the top of the tower seemed to be slowly crumbling and floating up into the abyss. Light fizzled out of the tower at the top, illuminating the black floating stones.

“So, this must be one of the Boneyard Keeper’s towers,” Serana said, myrth disappearing as the skeletal dragon slowed to a stop not far from it.

Casil nodded, commanding the dragon to lower so they could get off. Serana slid off first, but before Casil could follow her she felt Miraak grab the back of her cloak. 

“No. You stay here,” he said, before hopping to the ground. He turned to face her again. “You’ve pushed yourself too far already. Serana and I will deal with it.”

Casil pouted, but she could tell Miraak was not in the mood to deal with it. Reluctantly, Casil stayed on the skeleton’s back, nodding her head.

Miraak was thankful she didn’t object. He glanced to the vampire with a nod, before drawing his sword and heading towards the tower. Serana nodded to Casil in return, before following after the priest.

Casil rested her head against the cold vertebrae of the dragon, watching her companions enter the tower on their own. It would give her a minute to collect her thoughts anyways, and she wouldn’t lie. Animating the dragon had taken a lot out of her, more than she’d like to admit. She wasn’t sure she could offer anything in a fight at this point beyond the dragon itself, which she’d rather use as a mount if they could afford it.

The tower did not have real walls as much as just four thick supporting pillars, but it was layered with multiple floors. A staircase wound its way up through it, leading to some of the upper floors. A few ghostly skeletons waited at the bottom, weapons drawn as Miraak and Serana approached. Hollow white eyes locked onto the pair, and with a clatter of bone and metal the undead attacked.

“ _ Yol Toor Shul!”  _ Miraak shouted, immolating the bonemen in a fury of fire. Serana hurried ahead of him, rushing up the stairs with lightning surrounding her hands. She didn’t give the bonemen above a chance to attack as she unleashed lightning upon them, reducing them to piles of ooze. Miraak followed at a slightly slower pace, trying not to push himself too hard. Serana could handle the grunts on her own. 

Serana slowed when she reached the top floor of the tower, waiting for the old dragonborn to catch up. She managed to hide a smile when she heard him panting to catch up, pausing to lean against one of the pillars to catch his breath. His gaze fell to what Serana had stopped for.

A large skeleton sat amongst what almost was a throne, covered in armor made of the remains of other fallen beasts. In one hand was a massive axe as tall as Miraak was, with a wicked curve that seemed to also be constructed of some sort of bone.

Serana glanced to Miraak. “You ready?” She asked, lightning crackling around her hands again.

Miraak pushed himself from the wall, drawing his sword. “Never ask me that again,” he hissed.

Serana smirked, before splitting of to one direction. As she crossed into the room proper, the Boneyard Keeper shuddered, before slowly moving to stand from where it sat. Miraak moved to the other side, staying back in hopes it targeted Serana and not him. He was certain he could still deal with the creature if it took interest in him, but he really was not looking forward to exerting himself to dodge blows when he was already this tired from walking of the stairs. Divine forbid Serana had any more fuel to make fun of how tired he was on top of that.

To his relief, the Keeper did hone its attention on the vampire. It lumbered over, raising its axe over its head. Despite the onslaught of electricity that flew from Serana’s hands, it paid her attacks no mind. The giant blade swung down, and Serana cursed and narrowly back stepped out of the way. The axe embedded itself into the stone, cutting into it and sending chunks of rock flying in its wake. 

Miraak positioned himself carefully to the creature’s side, taking a deep breath.  _ “Fus Ro Dah!”  _

The Keeper pulled its axe out of the floor, turning its ghostly, amorphous head just in time to be knocked to the ground. Its white eyes peered in seething anger, managing to stop itself before it slid over the edge like Miraak had hoped. With surprising speed, the creature pushed itself back up and lunged towards Miraak this time. Miraak cursed, ducking out of the way of the creature’s swing. Instead of being hit by the blade, he was hit down by its other hand, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Serana hurled a spike of ice into the Keeper’s back, distracting it long enough for Miraak to get back up and out of the way of another possible swing. Electricity crackled around his own hand, hurling a bolt of electricity at it. The thing staggered back slightly, but even that didn’t seem to be doing much. Miraak wasn’t sure how much energy he  _ had  _ here to waste on something that did so little. Missing that fragment of his soul really was draining here. Careful not to let himself back off of the edges of the pillar, Miraak continued to expertly evade the Keeper’s swings, even if it felt like his body was moving through molasses. If they had several of these to defeat… Miraak worried how long even  _ he  _ could keep up with them if they weren’t going to go down easy.

A few more icicles jutted out of the monster’s back before it finally turned its attention back to Serana, charging over to try to cleave her in half instead. Serana flashed a look to Miraak as she braced herself towards the edge of the pillar, and Miraak gave her a nod. As the monster went in for a swing, Serana quickly moved aside, and Miraak followed up with a Fire Breath.

Staggering forward, the Keeper toppled over the edge of the tower, tumbling down before shattering into a pile of bones and a cloud of ash and dust on the ground below.

Casil almost jumped off of the dragon in surprise when the thing suddenly hit the ground not far away, throwing a look of surprise up to the top. She’d been trying to watch their fighting to the best of her ability, but instead she ended up almost dozing off. Serana peered over the edge, giving Casil a friendly smile and wave when she saw that the Keeper was dead. A rude awakening, to say the least. Casil relaxed though.

“One down, two to go,” Serana mused when she reached the dragon again, playfully dusting her hands off on each other.

Miraak folded his arms. “Two too many,” he grumbled. 

Casil relaxed to see that they both seemed fine though. The skeletal dragon lowed its  neck again, allowing the other two passengers on. ‘That didn’t seem too hard,’ Casil said before she had the dragon move, turning so she could get her message across.

Serana glanced back at Miraak. “Wasn’t hard for  _ me  _ at least,” she teased.

Miraak narrowed his eyes under the mask. “That fight would have  _ continued  _ if it weren’t for me. But this isn’t time to argue. Let’s find the other two so we can leave here as soon as possible,” he snapped.

Serana rolled her eyes, but nodded. She pulled her map out again, and Casil took a look at it to compare their location with the next destination. Once she had a general idea of what they were looking for and where they were headed, she urged the dragon to their next location. Miraak was right in that sense at least. She wasn’t feeling great, and the voices… as much as she’d tried to ignore them, they hadn’t entirely let up. Divines knew she wasn’t going to tell either companion that though.

 

Casil wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time the final Boneyard Keeper collapsed. It had felt like days really, but she doubted it had really been that long. But then again… time in the Oblivion realms always seemed to work differently. Maybe they’d only been in the portal for a few seconds on Nirn, like how it was in Apocrypha. Or maybe it’d been  _ years  _ since they entered the Soul Cairn. She tried not to think of that as a possibility. Because if it was…

Casil brushed the thought off as Valerica’s prison grew closer on the horizon. She kept scanning the sky nervously now and then, remembering what the woman had said. So far, she hadn’t seen any sign of a dragon besides the one they were riding on, but she didn’t want to let her guard down. Serana seemed to be in a pleasant mood now though, despite the gash on her arm she’d gotten from the last Boneyard Keeper, but  behind her Miraak continued to skulk. He was exhausted, more so than he usually was, and it was making him extraordinarily grumpy. Casil wanted to be out of there as soon as possible for a multitude of reasons, but Miraak’s bad mood was very quickly climbing to the top of that list. Right up there besides her own fatigue, and the insistent chatter of the Ideal Masters in the back of her mind. 

To everyone’s relief, the barrier had disappeared. Valerica was sitting on the stairs where Serana had been before, getting up with a look of relief when as the skeletal dragon bounded up with all three of its original passengers alive and relatively well.

“I take it all went well?” She questioned simply, brushing dust off of her dress once the dragon came to a halt in front of her.

Casil carefully slid off the beast’s neck, almost falling as she did so. But she nodded back to the vampire.

Serana caught Casil before she fell, grimacing a bit as the bosmer pulled on her arm. Valerica furrowed her brow slightly, but to Casil’s surprise said nothing about her daughter’s injury. “Yes. All three of the Boneyard Keepers are dead… and I see that’s let you free,” Serana said with a sigh of relief.

“Did that dragon find you?” She questioned.

Miraak pushed past Casil and Serana with a shake of his own head. “No. And I’d like to keep it that way.” He extended a hand. “The Scroll.  The sooner we leave, the better. Casil and I have already been here for far too long, and i’d prefer to leave as soon as possible.”

Casil grimaced at how… forward he was being, though he wasn’t really  _ wrong. _

Valerica narrowed her eyes at Miraak, her irises glimmering like coals. She shifted her gaze to Serana, before reaching to unhook the Scroll from her body. “I hope your intentions are as pure as my daughter says they are. If this falls into Harkon’s hands… and if  _ Serana  _ falls into Harkon’s hands…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. They knew how that’d end.

Miraak briskly yanked the gold casing from her hands, moving it to strap it to himself. “It won’t,” he said bluntly. “I have no intention of allowing your kind to impose such a rule over the world.”

Serana grimaced. She nervously looked to her mother. “Will you be…”

“Staying?” Valerica interjected. “Yes. Until Harkon is dead… I’m afraid I can’t return. I can’t risk that.” She turned to head back into her alcove, her movement brisk. “Before you go back, you should find where your soul gems are. I believe they are at a alter a few towers away,” she vaguely motioned to one in the distance. “It’d be best if you found them before you left.” With that,s he said no more.

Casil swallowed, giving Serana a nervous glance. Miraak turned to get back on the dragon, but she reached out to grab his sleeve. She could tell by the way he turned his mask to her that he was irritated, but she wanted to give Serana a moment to say whatever she needed to to her mother before they left.

Serana hesitated, but after a moment she wandered after her mother. The exchanged quiet words that Casil could not hear, but from the tone their conversation was… tense, to say the least.

Miraak brushed her hand off his sleeve after she didn’t immediately let go. He was antsy to get back his soul gem and leave this Divines forsaken plane, and he was irritated that Casil was drawing it out. He shifted his gaze to the location Valerica had pointed, carefully considering how long it would take them to get there and then get to the portal. He was hoping they wouldn’t have to encounter that dragon Valerica had spoken of, because much like the Boneyard Keepers he really did not feel like he had the usual energy to fight… whoever this was.

Casil walked over to the skeletal dragon, pulling the beast’s head down so she could climb on anyways and wait. With exhaustion, she leaned forward and folded her arms in front of her so she could use them as a pillow.

 

“ _ Oh, so excited to leave…” _

 

_ “After all we’ve done for you…” _

 

_ “We thought you’d be excited to be here…” _

 

_ “The place all necromancers call to…” _

 

_ “Selfish girl…” _

 

_ “You could still stay…” _

 

_ “Your last chance…” _

 

_ “Should have taken back our deal…” _

 

_ “Ungrateful…” _

 

She closed her eyes tightly, letting out a shaky exhale. She was so…  _ tired.  _ She felt like she could curl up and sleep forever, and she was afraid that doing so was a very real possibility. She was relieved they’d retrieved the Scroll, but the lethargy was draining on her. Even without fighting, her eyes felt painfully heavy and her mind felt slow and hazy. She couldn’t imagine how Miraak felt.

She could hear him climb on as well, reaching forward to give her side a quick squeeze. “We’re almost done. Then they can pester you no longer,” he said lowly.

Casil nodded, gripping the protrusions of the dragon’s vertebrae. She hated how obvious it was to him, but the voices had been… relentless. 

 

_ “You think he’s any different…?” _

 

_ “Humorous.” _

 

_ “He thinks he can teach you things…” _

 

_ “Maybe he doesn’t…” _

 

_ “Just using you…” _

 

_ “So shallow…” _

  
  


Casil snapped out of it as Serana pulled herself back onto the dragon’s neck as well, situating herself between the two dragonborns.

“Are you alright?” Serana whispered with worry, placing a hand on Casil’s shoulder.

Casil looked back at her, before giving a short nod. ‘Want to go home,’ she signed tiredly. ‘Are you done talking to your mother?’

Serana glanced back to the alcove. Valerica leaned against the entry, arms folded across her chest as she watched the three of them. Casil could see a look of subtle worry on the woman’s features that crossed with a hard uncertainty. After a short pause, Serana nodded. “I’ll… i’ll come back here, when this is all over. For now, we need to get your soul gems back, and then we can get out of here.”

Casil nodded in return, before nudging the skeleton forward.

“So you were right,” Miraak managed to grunt as the beast galloped towards the shrine Valerica had mentioned. “Your mother did have the scroll, or, at least, the castle had a clue where she hid it.”

Serana snorted, glancing back at him. “She put it where my father would never look. And he would never be able to find it here. My father isn’t exactly very knowledgeable about the arcane arts, as you can imagine… unless he had some gut feeling and the nerve to ask someone else in the castle about it, he’d never had found her here.”

It had been a smart idea, even if it was… incredibly inconvenient for them. Well, for Casil and Miraak at least. Serana didn’t seem affected in the least by the Carin itself, but Casil knew both she and Miraak would have been miserable being vampires. Her eyes may have reflected what seemed to be vampirism due to her deal with the Ideal Masters, but she had no intentions of being the real deal. It was part of the reason she’d sought the pact in the first place. 

The dragon slowed as it neared the shrine. On the top of it, the trio could make out what appeared to be a large chest, hanging under a ominous purple crystal. Casil could feel the hair on the back of her neck raise as she gazed at the thing.

“ _ You gave us this…” _

 

_ “Do you really think you can just take it back?” _

 

_ “Perhaps you are more foolish than we thought.” _

 

_ “Go ahead…” _

 

_ “Try it…” _

 

_ “Then you can feel…” _

 

_ “What all those who came before you felt.” _

 

Casil hesitated to move once she got off the dragon’s back, but Miraak and Serana didn’t. The two headed into the small building-like structure under the altar, looking for a way up to the top. Casil scrunched her brow. If the voices had spoken to Miraak, he was ignoring them. She quickly followed behind them before they questioned why she was loitering, but she didn’t like the warning. She knew they were playing with her, but she didn’t doubt that there was  _ some  _ truth behind their words. 

The only way up seemed to be a glowing portal-like platform that was in the far corner of a series of somewhat maze-like rooms. Serana volunteered to go first, and once she’d given a call of approval from the top of the building the other two followed up after her.

The sensation of being pulled from one spot to another on this plane was… nauseating. Casil gasped when she appeared on the top of the building, holding her stomach as a wave of nausea washed over her. Staggering off of the platform, she felt Miraak reach out to steady her. A dull humming rang in her ears, and slowly she looked up to the crystal looming over her.

“Are you alright?” Serana asked.

Casil didn’t respond. Her gaze felt like it tunnel-visioned on the rock. 

 

_ “Stay, Casil…” _

 

_ “We have so much to teach you…” _

 

_ “You have so much to learn…” _

 

_ “No more worries…” _

 

_ “No more problems…” _

 

_ “Why care about what happens to them…?” _

 

_ “Who out there ever cared…?” _

 

_ “We always have cared…” _

 

_ “Helped you when nobody else would…” _

 

_ “When they hurt you…” _

 

_ “Chased you…” _

 

_ “Leave them Casil…” _

 

_ “Why fight for them…?” _

 

_ “They’ll never do the same for you…” _

 

_ “You are no hero…” _

 

_ “Be selfish…” _

 

_ “Leave the pain of living behind…” _

 

_ “You can be here…  _ _ forever _ _ …” _

 

_ “To live is to suffer…” _

 

_ “Be selfish. Give in…” _

 

Casil was only vaguely aware that she was walking forward, and as she drew closer to the crystal she felt herself grow more tired. 

“Casil-” Miraak began. 

Her glazed-over eyes looked up to the crystal. Why did she bother? After all people had done to her? She had never wanted it. Wouldn’t it be easier to just… stay here? Never have to worry about what people thought about what she was doing? Never have to worry about that dragonborn shit again? Or the vampire uprising? Or whatever else wanted to force itself into her life? Instead of going for the chest under the crystal like Miraak and Serana had assumed she was doing, Casil extended a hand up towards the crystal. It was so close.  _ They  _ were so close. Her arm felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. She felt so exhausted, but if she could just…

Miraak pulled her back sharply, hissing in pain as the crystal sapped on his lifeforce. Casil let out a gasp for air like she’d been drowning, snapping out of it as Miraak fell back out of range of the Ideal Master’s spell. His arms wrapped tightly around her, using one hand to sharply pull her face to look in his direction. “Casil. Answer me.”

She blinked, the world snapping back into places. Had she almost…? Her gaze tried to shift back to the crystal, but Miraak held her face firmly in his grip. Shakily, she reached up to grip his robes, just nodding her head weakly. 

Miraak let out a heavy sigh, before pulling her close to his chest. 

“What happened?” Serana asked with a panicked one, hands on her knees as she stood next to where Miraak had fallen.

Casil shakily raised her hands. ‘It’s  _ them. _ ’

Serana nervously glanced to the crystal. “That’s…?”

“I hadn’t realized the Ideal Masters were just  _ crystals, _ ” Miraak grunted. He rubbed Casil’s cheek, not letting her go. Not like she was struggling much- if she thought she felt tired before, she felt absolutely  _ exhausted _ now. “They seem to have a spell to keep us from getting close to the chest.”

Serana gritted her teeth. “What kind?”

“Something draining our energy.”

Serana started to stride forward. “Then it should affect me less.” She could feel the tug of the spell once she entered its range, but it certainly hurt a lot less then it had the other two. Whether that was because she was a vampire or because she simply had more energy, she didn't know or care. Swiftly, she threw the chest open, sorting through its contents of soul gems as she ignored the now almost irritated humming of the crystal above her. She managed to pick out the two she’d used for Miraak and Casil, before swiftly returning to them. Gingerly, she knelt down beside the two dragonborn. She placed each crystal in its respective owners hands, chanting a few soft words before both of them felt a surge of energy again.

Casil let out a sigh of relief. Now she only just felt  _ regular  _ tired. Miraak, on the other hand, felt significantly better. He carefully stood up, scooping Casil in his arms as he moved. “Let’s get going then, before something else happened.”

Casil signed a tired thanks to Serana, since Miraak seemed to forget that small motion. Serana simply nodded, a little peeved herself at how Miraak acted towards her. 

As the three emerged from the bottom of the structure, they were greeted with a sudden roar.

“So, you are the ones my masters have called me to stop?” The beast rumbled, tattered wings kicking up clouds of ash as he hovered a few feet away. The dragon was… far from any  _ anyone  _ in the group had seen. Flesh dangled off of his skeletal frame, and the smell of rot assaulted their noses with each gust of air. Flies swarmed near their squirming young that lived in the beast’s exposed muscles, and strings of slime dripped from his maw. Empty, sunken eyes stared down at the three. 

Miraak tensed, carefully setting Casil down. “So, you must be Durnehviir,” Miraak mused.

Durnehviir rumbled. “ _ Miraak…  _ I did not think you still lived,” he said simply. “It is of no matter. You will not live much longer.” He dragon rasped out a spell, making skeletons rise up out of the earth.

Miraak did not hesitate. Feeling energy in his body again, he was eager to put this dragon in his place. “ _ Joor Zah Frul!”  _

Durnehviir’s eyes widened, before the dragon immediately plummeted down to the ground. The dragon snarled, causing a cloud of ash and dust to pillow up around him. 

Serana lurched to the side, summoning up her own skeletons to combat Durnehviir’s before hurling bolts of lightning at the ones who got closest to her and Casil. Casil stumbled back, commanding the dragon skeleton after Durnehviir.

Durnehviir lifted his head, turning his gaze to the remains of the other dragon. The skeleton shuddered, magic contorting around it before it whirled back around to face its previous owners.

Casil silently cursed, trying to pull fire into her hands. Grimacing, she hurled what little magic she could drag up at the skeleton. It lurched back, staggering before Miraak wasted no time in dispatching its head with his sword. The bones collapsed back into a pile lifelessly as Miraak turned to Durnehviir.

Durnehviir inhaled, before breathing out a stream of frost at the dragon priest. Miraak threw up a ward, deflecting some of it before he swung his blade at Durnehviir’s face. The dragon pulled back before the blade could make contact, pushing back before he could slam his curled horns into Miraak’s chest.

Miraak winced, tumbling through the ash. Durnehviir shook off the spell, spreading his tattered wings before taking off to the sky again.

“Hm… you are strong,” he rumbled. “But are you strong enough…?” He let out another shout, summoning up more undead around him as he tried to climb higher into the sky. 

Miraak pushed himself up, lashing out with bolts of lightning at the nearest skeletons. He scowled at the dragon, throwing a bolt in his direction. The attack careened past him, and Durnehviir chuckled.

“How much energy do you have to fight? My energy, and the energy of the undead, is infinite. Can you outlast that?” He questioned.

Serana glowered at him as well as more undead were risen up. “I hate to play into what he’s saying, but he’s got way more bodies than we do,” she snapped, throwing a ice spike into the skull of one of the skeletons.

“Quiet,” Miraak snapped, hurling his blade through one.

Casil ignored their bickering, taking a deep breath. Fire burned between her fingers again as she focused on her spell, tracking Durnehviir as he circled higher up. She knew her fire couldn’t go nearly as far as Serana or Miraak’s lightning could, but if she could just get in one good hit… 

Durnehviir hissed as fire nailed into his wing, catching him off guard. He spiraled down again as the webbing burned away, and Miraak took the chance once he was in range again to dragon him down with another Dragonrend. Durnehviir grunted, shaking himself off when he hit the ground. Miraak charged up to him, sword prepared before he wasted no time in driving the blade into Durnehviir’s skull with a sickening squelch.

The beast fell still, and the skeletons he’d summoned crumbled back into dust and bones. Miraak turned the blade in his skull, before pulling back. He waited for the familiar sensation of absorbing a dragon’s soul… but it never came. As Casil and Serana approached, he threw out a hand to stop them. Raising his blade to the dragon, he narrowed his eyes. “[Laat hin looe, dovah. Zu’u mindok hi ni dilon.”](x)

Durnehviir continued to be still for a moment, before slowly shuddering. “You are powerful. Never before has someone defeated me here within the Soul Cairn,” he rumbled, slowly lifting his head again. Before Miraak could strike again, Durnehviir bowed his head. “Stay your weapon. I would speak with you,” he said, lifting his head away from the weapon.

Miraak did not lower his blade, eyes locked on the dragon before him. “That should have killed you. How are you alive?”

Durnehviir shook his head, splattering maggots and coagulated blood across the ground in front of him from the wound. “A curse. I am doomed to exist in this form for eternity. Between life and death,” the beast rumbled.

Casil nervously approached behind Miraak, reaching out to lower his sword. He kept it firmly pointed at the dragon. 

“And why are you talking to us now? You were just trying to  _ kill  _ us,” Serana spat, the few skeletons of hers that survived the battle creeping closer to the rotting dragon.

“The hostility was necessary. I was bound to an oath,” he replied. “My claws have rended the flesh of innumerable foes, but I have never once been felled on the fields of battle… Though I suppose that should come as no surprise from the  _ dovahkinne _ ,” he mused, his eyes sparkling in the flashes of lightning overhead as he shifted his attention to Casil. 

Casil pursed her lips tightly, gripping Miraak’s sleeve until at last he lowered the blade with reluctance. “What do you want?” Miraak repeated.

“I merely wish to respectfully ask a favor of you, [sonaak ahkr nahgahdinok](x) . For countless years I've roamed the Soul Cairn, in unintended survice to the Ideal Masters. Before this, I roamed the skies above Tamriel. I desire to return there. I fear that my time here has taken its toll upon me. I share a bond with this dreaded place. If I venture far from the Soul Carin, my strength would begin to wane until I was no more. Do me this simple honor and I will fight along your side as your Grah-Zeymahzin, your ally.”

Casil looked specifically to Miraak. She could feel him tense, but before he replied she pulled on his robes to get his attention.

‘He could be useful to have later. He’s no weak necromancer, that should be obvious. And you should know how that feels,’ she signed.

She could hear Miraak exhale, before he turned his attention back to the beast. “And how do you think I can do that?” he asked, clearly on edge.

Durnehviir rattled his remaining scales. “Simply call my name when you are in Tamriel, and I will be able to follow. For a short amount of time… but at least then I will be able to spread my wings and soar the skies once more.”

Casil nodded. That sounded easy enough. 

“You said you were under a oath. What kind?” Serana asked. “How did a dragon like you end up here?”

Casil was curious too, though she could tell Miraak wasn’t in the mood for this banter. He attached the sword back to his belt, glancing to the pile of bones that had been their mount. Though at least now they all had the energy to walk back without hopefully having to stop every few feet to catch their breath.

“I sought solutions outside the norm in order to maintain my superiority. I began to explore what the dovah called ‘ _ alok-dilon _ ’, the ancient forbidden art that you call necromancy,” he said, turning his attention back to Casil. “The Ideal Masters assured me that my powers would be unmatched, that I could raise legions of the undead. In return, I was to serve them as a keeper until the death of the one who calls herself Valerica. I discovered too late that the Ideal Masters favor deceptions over honor and had no intention of releasing me from my binding. They had control of my mind, but unfortunately they could not possess my soul.”

Serana blinked. “You were bound to my mother?”

Durnehviir lowered his giant head to get a better look at Serana, and even Casil felt her stomach churn at the smell that radiated off of the dragon. “Your mother…? So, you must be Serana then. She spoke of in the times we spoke.” He pulled his head away, spreading his wings. “I see why it is that you have come here then. I will delay you no longer,” he chuckled, noticing how Miraak shifted his weight. “Should you call me… I hope that you will… I will aid you as I can. Even you,  _ tahrodiis sonaak, _ ” he said, before taking to the sky. 

Miraak didn’t even wait for the dragon to leave his sight, before starting to head back towards the portal. “We’ve wasted enough time here,” he grunted. “Let us leave, before something  _ else  _ manages to catch us.” He’d been hoping to avoid the dragon altogether, but at least that had turned out for the better. Durnehviir, wasn’t it…? Reluctantly, he made a note of the name in his mind. The beast seemed very aware of who he was, which wasn’t a surprise if he was trapped here around or after Miraak’s own disappearance, but he felt like he’d have recognized the dragon’s name.  _ Curse never dying.  _ It must not have been his original name. He wondered if he’d be able to dig of the dragon’s origins later, for curiosity’s sake.

Casil couldn’t imagine being trapped here like that, and she knew she’d fallen close to it several times. That could have been her. She was glad that it at least sounded like they could help the beast out in some form, since a necromancer like him would be helpful. She doubted Miraak could complain about another ally on his side. Silently, she wondered if she’d get the chance to ask the dragon for some guidance in her own necromancy. Even for the brief moments they met him, he seemed infinitely more trustworthy then the Ideal Masters. Who, Casil noted, had been rather quiet since she’d broken away from the crystal. Was it  because she had her soul back fully, where they were no longer literally lurking right above part of it? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t complaining. Their silence was as much of a blessing as the strength that had returned with the rest of her soul.

All three were relieved to see the portal floating in the air ahead of them after a significantly shorter walk. It seemed to still be open, the colors swirling around the top of the staircase that ascended into the sky. Casil picked her pace, letting out a sigh of relief once her feet touched the bottom step.

‘Let’s never come back here again,’ she signed with a look of exasperation. She was so tired, she felt like she’d fall asleep for a week the second she got to. And she was sure this horrifying, stark Oblivion plane would haunt her nightmares for every second of it.

“Agreed,” Miraak said stiffly, checking for the hundredth time to make sure the Elder Scroll was still on him before walking up the stairs.

Serana paused through, looking back out in the direction her mother. She pursed her lips. “I’ll… i’ll come back when this is all done. I can’t leave my mother trapped here,” she said.

“I won’t be helping you with that,” Miraak replied, not even looking back down the stairs.

Casil shot him a glare, before reaching out to give Serana a awkward pat on the shoulder. She wasn’t sure there was much she could to help either, but she didn’t want the vampire to think she didn’t… care.

Serana understood. She flashed Casil a thankful smile. “Let’s go home,” she said, before walking alongside Casil up into the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [b]Hi mey[/b] - You fool
> 
> [b]Laat hin looe, dovah. Zu’u mindok hi ni dilon.[/b] - End your lies, dragon. I know you are not dead.
> 
> [b]sonaak ahkr nahgahdinok[/b] - Dragon Priest and necromancer


End file.
